


THE OLD Wind-Tossed Feathers DO NOT READ

by zelda_creator



Series: The Angel Records [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: #Not what I wanted, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angel!England - Freeform, Angel/Demon Hybrids, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angel/Demon Sex, Animal Transformation, As the Feathers Lightly Fall, Because we changed shit and I just REALLY HATE ALL THIS, Collars, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dancing, Demon!France, Depression, Drinking, Even lighter Gerita because we barely see them period., Fighting, Fluff and Crack, Forced Crossdressing, Going to be deleted and reuploaded in 2018, I don't even know., I'm copying these all from AFLF, If you hadn't noticed yet, Is there a plot?, Kidnapping, Light BDSM?, Light Bondage, Light politics, Loads of other references, Lots of height changes, Magic, More tags to be added as we go., Mpreg, Multi, Mythical Beings and Creatures, Occasional (rare) pictures for reference, Possessive Behavior, Rebellion, References to Supernatural (TV), Royal Balls, Short!Arthur, Slavery, Sword Fighting, Tall!Francis, Violence, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:45:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9072268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_creator/pseuds/zelda_creator
Summary: The Fruk companion arc to "As the Feathers Lightly Fall" by Andy_Braginsky and myself.Picking up from AFLF's chapter 46, "Wind-Tossed Feathers" tells Arthur's side of his story, following Francis back to his kingdom in Hell. Despite the kindness he receives from Francis, Arthur is still very wary of the king's actions. Will he accept this life willingly or will he try time and again to escape back to his life in Heaven?GOING TO BE DELETED AND REUPLOADED IN 2018 DUE TO STORY PLOT BS.APOLOGIES TO ALL.





	1. Introduction

Hello and welcome to the second installment arc of The Angel Records: Wind-Tossed Feathers.

As the co-creator of the original "As the Feathers Lightly Fall" -- featuring Spaus as the main pairing -- I am proud to present this secondary arc and apologise in advance that everyone's favorite, Andy_Braginsky, was not as involved in this fic as the other. Due to some decisions made some time ago, we agreed that I should take what we had done and expand it accordingly. Andy was very integral in making this happen and none of this would be possible without her brilliance, but many things have been changed from our original version of W-TF.

This entire story is set and written parallel to the original AFLF and there will be some crossovers, like the first five chapters with the three New Year's chapters for AFLF, but it will almost exclusively be separate with its own story. 

Because I am on my own with this one, the uploading will probably be much less consistent than AFLF, but I will still try to do my best to stay pretty consistent! The first six chapters are written already and I will be posting five of those chapters over the course of this two-day holiday. 

If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, PLEASE comment below and I will get back to you and I might, with credit for your idea in the chapter summary, use your ideas for future chapters! (That and I totally love seeing your thoughts on how the fic is going!) 

Thank you and please enjoy! 

\- zelda-creator <3

 

 


	2. Two Months of Bastards, Ongoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the world of crap. Perhaps some hope lies around this corner . . . ha, nope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Special thanks to Andy-Braginsky for helping me write, revise, and name things in this beauty. 
> 
> I'm so excited that this is finally starting up! Please tell me what you all think. I appreciate the support forever and always!

_Two months._ That’s how long the angel had been stuck in the fiery depths of Hell. Brought into it by a group of angels chasing after an archangel who had gone mad with love and devotion, and for a _demon,_ no less. It wasn’t that he hated Roderich for it, not at all. He was happy for his acquaintance to have found love and a place to call home, a new family. Arthur just wished he hadn’t gotten caught in the crossfire.

Yet, Arthur was caught, remaining under the “care” of Ryszard, the bastard demon who had captured them all those months ago. Through him, the four angels were introduced to a horrid side of Hell. It was the part they all expected, only _worse_.

Absently, the angel had begun flexing his pale gold, mint, and white wings, stretching out the muscles in what seemed like forever. (Two months practically _was_ forever for Arthur, having been trapped in this God-forsaken place for that long without being allowed to fly.) Looking around the cage the four captured angels -- minus Roderich, for he was finally home and safe for the most part -- were occupying, he saw the same things he had seen in his time here: Cold, hard metal. It was discouraging, thinking that this might be all he sees for a good, long time. He would pray, but he wasn’t sure if he’d even be heard in this damned realm.

The others were just chatting quietly, looking about as bored as himself, when Arthur noticed a demon and Roderich walking hand in hand down the hall outside the door of their courtroom. He could see the two stop outside, Roderich speaking to the tall demon and gesturing towards them. The demon nodded and murmured something inaudible, Roderich responding to him before slipping inside the rather empty courtroom, minus the cage and the guards watching over it.

“Hallo. I did what I could to make it easier for you,” the archangel said, reaching the prison.

Arthur noticed, when looking Roderich over, that he had a lot of marks -- just love bites and hickeys -- around his neck and what little of the other’s chest he could see past the dress he was wearing. He quirked an eyebrow subtly, ‘ _He must have had fun last night.’_

Tino was the first to speak up, as he was always the most eager among them to talk, “Oh did you? What did you work out with the king?”

“He is willing to contact some others that even if they don't let you go, vill at least you treat you vell.”

 _‘Ah. . . So we_ won’t _be leaving.’_ He looked over at Lukas, the older angel watching with expressionless eyes as he nodded, “I expected nothing else.”

Arthur nodded as well, “Indeed. It isn't the worst that could happen to us.” ‘ _When did I get so good at lying to myself?’_

“Though this still sucks. I mean, dude,” the youngest angel, Alfred, voiced our silent thoughts. “They put us in fucking chains and skirts. How perverted are they?!”

“Alfred, maybe that's just this demon. We haven't really met any others that weren't extremely personal with Ryszard,” Tino said hopefully.

“They are still demons, remember.” Lukas interrupted blankly.

“Still! Roderich, they can't all be so terrible. . . . Right?”

_‘No, they will most likely be just like every other demon. Even if that isn’t the side they show publically.’_

“Antonio's good, and so are some of the other kings, believe it or not,” Roderich explained. “Antonio is going to be contacting them, seeing if they would be willing to buy any of you.”

Arthur scowled, muttering. “We aren't _property_. Don't they see that?”

Arthur was a little relieved when Alfred agreed, the younger angel shaking his head disgustedly. “No one owns me.”

“Though it is not like they discriminate. We saw _plenty_ of demon slaves in our time with Ryszard,” Roderich pointed out.

Yet, those slaves were _demons_ in _Hell,_ that was _their_ business, but they were _angels_ in _Hell._ They simply _didn’t belong here._

Tino was obviously still a bit crestfallen, “It's still awful that they're doing this to _anyone_.”

“They're demons, what do you expect?” The archangel arched an eyebrow imperiously, “Just hope you don't meet one that's in a 'bloodlust'.”

Arthur’s ridiculously bushy eyebrows quirked upwards, mimicking the movement of a rearing caterpillar. “I do hope you're not speaking from experience, Roderich.”

“Thankfully for me, the demon I met under a bloodlust vas my own mate. He recognized me, so he protected me from other demons that vere attacking.”

The older angel couldn’t help but look over at the doorway at this mate of Roderich’s. He wasn’t the tallest looking demon he’d ever seen, but he _was_ broadly built. And _damn_ , he had a nice ass too.

“Speaking of, is that him standing at the door?” Tino also gave a tentative gesture towards the doorway and demon.

It was almost adorable the tiny smile on Roderich’s face. “Ja, that's him. Would you like to meet him?”

Tino nodded eagerly, “ _Juu!_ I definitely would!”

Arthur simply gave the demon a glancing look and shrugged, “Sure.” He looked interesting, but he wasn’t horribly curious about him.

“Dude, no thanks.”

Lukas ignored the young angel, “He seems interesting.”

Roderich turned to his mate, gesturing for him to come over, and the demon tentatively came to them. Silently, he gave a good nod of respect to the caged angels, looking conflicted whether or not to say something.

“Anton, these are my acquaintances, Tino, Lukas, Arthur, und Alfred. Everyone, this is my mate, Antonio.”

Lukas gave the demon a blank look, “Good morning.”

“Yo.”

Alfred didn’t seem very happy, the opposite of the cheery Tino who smiled shyly in his greeting, “ _Moi!”_

Arthur looked the demon up and doubt subtly. _‘. . . He looks like an idiot. Is that why Roderich stays with him?’_ “Hello.”

Antonio smiled kindly at them in return, “It's a pleasure to meet you all. Rodrigo has spoken very well of you.”

Alfred’s wings flicked. “I hope so. Me especially. I _am_ the hero, after all.”

“Quiet fledgling,” Lukas rebuffed the other.

Pouting, Alfred looked indignant as he replied, “I am _not_ a fledgling!”

“You definitely are,” snapped the Brit.

“And what's wrong with saying it if it's true?”

The older angel turned and glared at Al, silently telling him to shut up. Turning back to Antonio, he said in a blank voice, “You must forgive him, he's much too young.”

The demon quietly chuckled, “I have a few friends who are similar to him. I'm used to it, ángel.”

Unhappy with the conversation, Alfred interjected, “Pfft, you're just upset I left your flock, old man!” He blew a raspberry at the Brit, making the other’s attitude finally crack.

Arthur whirled around to face the other, his feathers fluffed up crankily, and snapped, “I swear to all that is holy, I will _beat you_ inside this cage if you do not _shut up_. Now's _not_ the time!” Alfred fluffed his wings up, but backed down against the older angel. Arthur, satisfied, turned and calmed down, running his hands over his wings to make the feathers lie flat. Sitting there, he can see Lukas sigh exasperatedly and Tino, obviously unsettled by the anger between the two angels, turn to Antonio and Roderich.

“So . . . what are they like? The demons you are suggesting us to? If I may ask, of course,” Tino quickly added.

“Of course you may. Tino, for you, we've decided to contact the Cold King.”

_‘Hmm. The North Eastern king. . .’_

“O-oh. That sounds like it'll be alright. . .”

“Arthur, we're talking to the Ravager King.”

He simply scowled in return, hating the idea. The demon didn’t become known as the “Ravager King” for nothing, and Arthur was _sure_ he’d probably be of the worst, but he didn’t voice his worries. Before he’d even realised it, the Brit kind of tuned out Roderich in his fretting, quickly turning his attention back in the hope that no one noticed.

“My brother isn't all that bad. Neither is Gilbert. Scary titles for . . . _sometimes_ scary demons.” _Antonio must be explaining about a couple of the kings._

“Oh, gotcha dude. Er, your majesty-kingness?”

Leave it to Alfred to practically insult a demon king, but the demon just shook his head in his reply, “Just call me Antonio, or any variation that suits you.”

“Thanks Tonio!” Alfred laughed, “You seem like a cool dude.”

Before he could respond, Roderich nudged his mate, “We should find Ryszard.”

Antonio nodded, quietly, “We should.” Turning his attention back to the others, he spoke sincerely, “It was maravilloso meeting you, and I wish you the best of luck. I will do all I can to help from here.”

 

They all said their goodbyes and settled back into the cage. The Briton nestled himself into a corner, wrapping his wings around himself as he worried about this so-called “Ravager King,” the king of South West Hell. He was also the _closest_ of the kings to southern demon, so he assumed he’d be next to ‘find a home.’ ‘ _Like a damn lost kitten,’_ he added bitterly to himself.


	3. Setting up the Love Bird and Bat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meetings~.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No images used in this fanfic are ours unless otherwise stated. Their only purpose is for visual reference. Any music/videos used are also for reference, and nothing we own unless stated otherwise. I own nothing.

A day later, Antonio was sitting at a desk of paperwork with Roderich on the lounge, when he heard a knock on the door and answered absently, “Come in.”

The door opened quietly, Sadiq standing in the doorway.

“Your majesty, King Francis is here-” the captain was shoved aside by the smaller king, who happily came right in.

 _“Bonjour_ ~. Tonio, 'ow _'ave_ you been?”

Sadiq simply stalked off, muttering something about 'not being paid enough' as Antonio rose from his desk chair to greet the demon, “Francis! I wasn't expecting to see you. I've been well, how have you been?”

“Oh, so-so. I was just relaxing in my palace 'owever, when I 'eard a _rumor_ that you 'ad acquired yourself a _new angel._ But not just any angel, _an archangel.”_ He flatly glared at Roderich, “Which I see to be _correct_.”

Roderich was amused, but didn’t say anything in favor of watching how this would all pan out.

A brief moment of silence passed before he smacked the slightly taller demon across the face, slowly stalking toward him, “You should be ashamed of yourself! Do you even _know_ 'ow much he worried about you? And then you go out and _replace 'im?_   I should _beat you!_ I think I just mi-”

Antonio, extremely shocked at the slap, backed up from Francis, trying to find his words. Realizing just how pissed Francis is, he interjected, _“Francis!_  Do you _honestly_ think I would _replace Roderich?”_

“ _Who is sitting over there?!”_

During all this, the archangel rose and grabbed the demon's arm, and suddenly spoke menacingly in Francis’s face, _“Don't hit him.”_

Grateful for the interruption, Antonio rubbed his face, “Mi diablo, Franny, it's Roderich. Is it so hard to see past the long hair?”

Francis looked at Roderich in surprise, and more than a bit in terror by the menace in the archangel's face, “Wha- You . . . you look so _different_ , Roderich. Merde, where 'ave you been!”

Relaxing, Roderich released his arm, “I wish I knew.”

The demon turned suddenly to Toni and went to help him up, “Oh shit, Tonio I am so sorry for hitting you.”

Exasperatedly, Roderich replied, “Danke for apologizing.”

Antonio rubbed his face, waving it off with a slight, nervous chuckle as he took the help, “I'm glad to see _Roderich_ has such strong supporters.”

“I swear I didn't even realize! But,” Francis chuckled, “at least now you know what would _actually_ 'appen if you fuck over Roderich in the future. Surely, I 'aven't been the only one?”

“You definitely have not, but no one's _hit me_. Damn.”

Roderich rolled eyes, returning to the chaise lounge and happily lying back down, Toni doing the same and sitting back in his chair, “Is that the only reason you came all the way over, Francis?”

The French demon ‘hmphed’, “Other than to see if the rumors about the archangel and you replacing your old angel with it? I also came to see if it’s true Ryszard procured four other angels.”

Antonio nodded, “That it is, we were actually going to contact you and a few others about them.”

“Oh?”

“Roderich and I really want them to be in the care of demons who will either treat them well or release them, and we all know you're just a lil’ softie~.”

“Honhon, but of course~.” Francis smiled, placing his hand on his breast, “The most beau and cuddliest of the kings. Now which angel would you like me to 'ave?”

Toni smirked, “The one called _Arthur_. You just might like him . . .”

“Arthur? 'E sounds cute already~” Ignoring the chuckle from Antonio, he continued, “Where is 'e? May I meet this 'Arthur' now?”

The Spaniard looked over at Roderich, “Are the angels still in the courtroom downstairs?”

“Jo. I can sense them. They are quite restless as of right now.”

“Anyone else down there?”

“Just the guards, Ryszard's und ours, ensuring no one tries anything. Though Ryszard is nearby.”

Antonio paused, turning back to Francis, “ . . . Well, let's go introduce you to Arthur then. It doesn't sound too bad, unless you get caught in a conversation with Ryszard, then you are on your own.”

“Oh, I can 'andle Ryszard. We 'ave 'ad dealings before.”

“Wonderful. Rodrigo, would you like to join us as well?”

“Jo. Though . . . I might want the shackles. A moment, if you please.” Roderich quickly went to a drawer and dug out the shackles, slipping them on. “There. We can go now.”

Antonio rose from his chair, holding a hand out for Roddy as the three leave. They made their way downstairs and outside the courtroom where they stopped for a moment. The Spaniard turned to Francis before going in, “Shut up until one of us introduces you, bien?”

“Oui, but of course! I do 'ave manners, merci beaucoup!”

From his little corner that he, overall, didn’t really move from, Arthur could see a blond demon outside the door of the courtroom with Antonio and Roderich. They appeared to be coming inside, pausing briefly to exchange a few inaudible words before walking in. The other angels noticed the two demons and shifted uneasily.

“Arthur, may I introduce you to a friend of mine?” Antonio asked calmly.

The angel stood up and walked to the side of the cage closest to the group, eyeing the blond suspiciously, “Yes, of course.”

Looking over this demon, Arthur noticed several things: The demon was even _shorter_ than Antonio, if that was possible, and he had his tail out around himself, but also something rather . . . _peculiar_ about his wings that he’d never seen before. _White_ with an edge of _gold._ He’d seen white wings and wings with gold, but _never_ both at the same time. ‘ _They’re rather pristine,'_ he admitted to himself.

Antonio gestured the demon forward and he came forth with a smile, “This is Francis, but I believe you know him better as the Ravager King of the South West? Francis, _this_ is Arthur.”

“Bonjour, mon petit ange~.” His bright eyes flickered suddenly, in a realization. “I-I recognize you! From the pictures!” he stuttered, turning to the Spaniard. “Antonio, you did not tell me it was 'im!”

Arthur’s stomach dropped a bit. _‘How does this demon recognise me at all? What pictures?’_ He tried not to panic, keeping his breathing rather steady as he watched the southern demon quirk a brow.

Antonio looked Arthur over, exclaiming suddenly, “Rodrigo, I _told you_ I had seen him before somewhere!”

At the end of his rope, Arthur tried not to snap at the kings, “I beg your pardon, what pictures?”

“That is what I would like to know as well . . .” _'Thank God,_ Roderich _wasn’t in on this too.'_

The Spaniard looked nervous, “I forgot, you weren't there then, were you . . . ?”

“Mon ami Gilbert came to us with pictures Ivan 'ad given 'im on angels that 'ad been sighted.”

 _‘Ivan Braginsky?’_ “I do hope you do not mean Ivan as in the _Blood King.”_

“Si, that’s the one.”

“A-ah, I see. . .” The angel faced the blond, “Well, it's nice to meet you as well, your highness.”

“And you, _amoureux~._ ”

 _‘Oh God, help me. He's_ **_French_** _.’_

 _‘I can see this one needs help. He's_ **_English_** **.** ’ Francis couldn’t help but think to himself of the horrid state of the Englishman’s hair and the caterpillars that seemed to have taken up residence over his eyes. But more specifically, his scowl and the sad look in his eyes. It didn’t belong there. Not on the cute, fuzzy angel’s face.

Arthur shifted agitatedly, the archangel speaking since _he_ wouldn’t, “So what do you think, King Francis?”

“'E is just so cute, with 'is _petites chenilles,_ that of course I will take 'im in!”

The angel asked, slightly confused, for he didn’t hear the other, “With my what?”

Ignoring Arthur, the three outside the cage continued their conversation, “Danke, King Francis.”

“Any time, mon petit ange. Now all we need is for Ryszard to come~”

At that moment, Ryszard suddenly leaned in the doorway, grinning like the _madman_ he is, “ _Someone say my name~?”_

_‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear.’_

Despite looking slightly angry at being ignored, Arthur stepped back silently in fear as Ryszard entered the room while Roderich slid closer to Antonio.

Francis turned to the trader as Antonio did the same, wrapping an arm around his archangel and speaking, “That would be Francis~. He seems to be interested in one of your angels. . .”

The creepy, predatory grin widened as Ryszard caught sight of him, “King Francis, _Renard d'étincelles,_ _how_ are _you_?”

“I am well, my old friend. Et vous?”

 _‘‘My old friend’?’_ Arthur could practically _cry_ at this revelation, knowing how Ryszard and his ‘friends’ have been to the angels so far. Cruel, horrid demons who’ve _used them._ And now he was going to be _stuck_ with one. He was _terrified_ and Roderich suggested him to _this_ demon? ‘ _Was he secretly sadistic?’_ He suppresses his trembling as he tuned back into the conversation.

“-I could see that one?” Francis pointed a finger at Arthur.

The trader hummed to himself, “Oh, why not? Alfred. Lukas. Tino. Fecisset.” As Ryszard opened the cage, Arthur glanced to see the three angels slide into kneeling positions. “Arthur. Venit. Fecisset.”

The angel came over, head down, to where the demon had pointed at the floor and knelt in front of the two as asked.

“Francis, Ryszard- You'll have to excuse us; I'd love to stay but I have a few things I need to take care of. Have a good afternoon.” _‘Yes, run you cowardly Spaniard. Don’t watch to see what we’ve gone through.’_

“See you later, Antonio~.”

“See you, Francis,” the demon replied, padding out of the courtroom and gesturing for Roderich to follow, which he obediently did.

As the trader pulled up a chair, starting to smoke and read a book, Francis began to circle the angel. Stopping, he pet a wing, earning a slight shiver. Arthur was just trying to keep calm composure in the presence of the demon king, who hummed at the shiver.

Circling around to the angel's front, Francis squatted down and ran a hand through the angel's hair, letting it rest on the other's crown as he waited for the angel to meet his eyes.

Arthur didn't immediately look up, but when he _did_ glance up, he stopped for a bit to look at the demon, taking in the other’s bright, blue eyes and gold-tipped horns, that which he hadn’t noticed before. Francis smiled as their eyes meet, tilting his head to the side and, realizing what he’d done, Arthur nervously looked away after a few moments.

“Oui, I think I _do_ like you.”

The angel quirked an eyebrow at the demon, hopeful to _leave_ , even in his semi-terrified state. He seemed kind enough now . . . no demon, besides Antonio, had ever been nice to him _at all._

Francis continued to pet his angel's hair, “Well, Ryszard?”

The trader responded absently, “755,000 Obis.”

“Done. Though make that 757,000 Obis. I'll also take 'is sword.”

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly. ‘ _He knows about my sword?’_

Ryszard looked up from book, considering. “Done~.” he sings. “For an additional 500 Obis, I'll throw in something for ease of transport. Hell's atmosphere is not kind to angel lungs.”

“Ah, that is very kind of you, mon ami. I accept your deal. I will meet you later to collect 'is papers and sign for 'im. Oui?”

“ _Splendid_ ~.”

“I will also be taking his grace now, s'il vous plait.”

Ryszard tsked, but handed Francis the glowing silvery-green vial. Arthur couldn’t help but look at it longingly, hiding the expression as much as possible.

“Merci beaucoup,” the demon said, pocketing the Grace.

After Arthur looked between them demurely and expectantly, the trader pointed to the cage. “Now, Arthur. Reditum.”

As Francis slid his hand from the angel’s hair, standing back up, Arthur gratefully rose up and walked back to the cage with his head down.

Ryszard shut and locked the cage, speaking to the four angels to release them from the command, “Quatuor angelis, relevo.”

The angels relaxed as they're released from the command, Ryszard practically prancing off, “I'll go get those papers~.”

As soon as Ryszard was gone, Arthur looked up at the demon with a grateful look in his eyes, speaking quietly and hesitantly, “. . . Thank you.”

“Oh, it's no trouble at all~.”

Arthur silently sat down in the corner of the cage and pulled his knees to his chest, pulling the “dress” -- if you could call it that -- down and glancing up at the demon from time to time. The other angels let them have their space as Francis sat down on the side opposite of his angel.

“I must admit, my reason for buying you is somewhat selfish.”

“. . . Oh?”

“You are . . . interesting. I see now where Antonio was coming from with Roderich.”

“ . . . I'm actually not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

Francis laughed good-naturedly, “A compliment, mon petit.”

The demon could see the other minutely starting to relax, “Then thank you.”

He smiled, _“De rien."_ Francis paused before continuing, “ . . . May I ask you to trust me, if for a moment?”

Arthur hesitated, terrified, “ . . . Alright.”

Reassuringly, “I swear it won't hurt or anything like that, but it will 'elp you. And me.”

Arthur looked over at the demon, his legs sliding down into a criss-cross, “What is it?”

“Just something that will 'elp ward off other demons.” Francis wiggled his fingers slowly, gesturing in advance if he may reach inside the cage at which the angel hesitantly nodded, watching Francis carefully. The French demon reached his hand through the bars, tentatively touching his fingers to Arthur's left collar bone, the other tensing up a small bit, but not fighting. Under his fingers, black marks bloomed until they take shape. It resembled a fox's head.

Francis withdrew his fingers, smiling, “It looks très belle, very beautiful, on you.”

Arthur looked down at the mark curiously, reaching up to run his fingers over it delicately, the demon looking on expectantly.

“ . . . I can't say it's ugly.”

Francis chuckled, “You are a stubborn one, aren't you?”

Arthur minutely glared at him, “What were you expecting?”

“Per'aps a stronger reaction to what it _is_. Unless you need a 'int?”

“Um . . . sorry?”

“It is fine. I just did not think you would take so kindly to my little tracer~. That, and it's my personal crest,” he explained.

Glaringly with heaps of sarcasm, knowing precisely what the other _saw_ it as, “Oh _is it now._ I'm guessing the same as the mark Roderich has?”

Francis shrugged, “Similar, _oui_.”

“ _Great_ . . . So it's just the tinkering little bell on the collar.” He muttered, “Just _splendid_.”

“Come now, it is not _so_ bad~.”

Arthur silently scowled in response.

Francis quickly booped his angel on the nose, skipping away, “I'll be back once I sign your papers~.”

Little did _he_ know, Arthur was glaring at him as he left.

 

An hour or so later, Ryszard and Francis returned. The papers were signed, and Francis had both sword and Grace within his possession. All he needed now was the key. Ryszard issued the orders, so once again, Arthur was back outside the cage, kneeling. Ryszard already cut their hands and finished the chant.

“Now, it's time for a look-see if it worked. King Francis?”

“Oui. Arthur? Sto.”

The angel silently stood at the command, retaining his demure expression. Now that Francis held all the cards, Arthur was completely at his mercy and was even _more_ terrified of this fact.

“Goody. Now I'll just be going~.” Ryszard sung as he quickly left the courtroom.

As soon as the demon was gone, Francis spoke the words to release him. “Arthur. Relevo.”

Arthur relaxed, glaring at the doorway where Ryszard just left and grumbling lowly, “What a bloody wanker.”

“Oui. Though certainly not among the worst, down here.”

He shivers at the thought, knowing quite well there were _worse,_ “ _Wonderful_.”

“Well, come along,” Francis began to leave and motioned for Arthur to follow, which he did, but he paused to look back at the others.

He met their eyes, “Good luck to you.” And with that, he left the courtoom with Francis, the two wandering down the halls with the demon keeping close to his angel.

“Do you want to see Roderich, or do you just want to sleep?” ‘ _He sounds calm and kind. . .'_

“Honestly, I haven't slept in ages,” Arthur didn’t look up, not sure of his boundaries yet. “If that's alright, I'd love to rest.”

Before Arthur’s even realised it, the demon had swooped him up and was carrying him -- presumably -- towards Francis’s chambers.

His eyes widened, clinging onto the demon instinctually, “What on Earth are you doing, put me down!”

Francis hushed him, murmuring softly, “You said tu were tired. Sleep.” The demon began purring as he carried Arthur.

The angel grumbled in response, “Bloody hell . . . I can still _walk_.”

“Why walk when you don't 'ave to?” he patiently responded.

“Perhaps my own _pride?”_ Arthur snapped indignantly.

The demon’s eyes glinted sharp and cold, “Do not talk to me of pride, little angel.”

It was the moment that the kind-looking demon’s eyes turn that Arthur knew he should not have challenged him, cowering into himself a bit at the tone. They stayed like that a few moments before the quiet purr from Francis picked up again. Arthur couldn’t help but think to himself as they walked how _right he was about this demon._ He’ll show a kind outside, but he’s _not_ kind on the inside. Hardened by whatever from this realm and Arthur didn’t care. He was already trying to plan a way to get away from the demon. He doesn’t want to give him a chance. He’s been hurt _enough_.

With his tail, Francis opened the door to his room and strolled through the doorway, setting the angel down on his bed. He himself sat beside him, leaning against the headboard as he read through miscellaneous papers, his other hand brushing through the angel's hair.

Arthur faced away from Francis and curled up, bringing wings around him as he tried to sleep.

Absently as the demon read, “I'll give you your Grace back when we return 'ome.”

“ . . . Thank you.”

“De rien, mon petit ange. Bien dormir.” Francis felt the angel finally settle into the sheets and relax, drifting off into what the demon thought was the bliss of a dreamless sleep.


	4. What’s to Know About the French?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quick guide on angel basics and some gossip about Francis, hoo hoo~.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3: Disclaimer: No images used in this fanfic are ours unless otherwise stated. Their only purpose is for visual reference. Any music/videos used are also for reference, and nothing we own unless stated otherwise. I own nothing.

Arthur blinked awake the next morning, not really sure where he was. He shrugged off what little sleep he got to sit up, looking around to see the blond demon brushing his hair quietly. The angel recalled the events of the day before and suddenly wished he hadn’t woken from his nightmares.

As Francis noticed his angel awaken, he padded over to the bed and continued to brush his hair, greeting him cheerily, “Bonjour.”

Arthur quietly, and rather unemotionally, replied, “Good morning.”

“I 'ope you are feeling well this morning?” He sat on the bed, still brushing his oddly long hair.

Arthur nodded, lying, “I am, thank you.” ‘ _ Well,’  _ he supposed to himself, ‘ _ it’s only a half-lie.’  _ He’d gotten so used to waking from nightmare-filled sleeps that the morning after didn’t even bother him that much anymore. “And . . yourself?”

“Oui.” He took the brush and began gently brushing Arthur's own hair, the angel silently watching the demon try to brush through his unruly hair.

Unnoticeably amused, “Having fun?”

“I 'ave never met more unruly 'air! At least I am getting zhe  _ tangles _ out.”

He smiled, quietly chuckling, “It really  _ is _ quite frustrating. I eventually gave up on it.” Arthur realised what he just did.  _ He just  _ smiled, _ for the first time in months. _ It quickly faded from his face, trying to look impartial. 

Francis hummed, using the brush to add curls. Internally he filed away the odd look that had crossed Arthur’s face. It had turned so quickly from a smile to frown, Francis couldn’t help but wonder at it. How very peculiar. Smiling, Francis gently informed his angel of the plans for today. “So I can  _ see.  _ If you want, I can get Roderich to show you to a bath. Antonio 'as a très belle one 'ere.”

Arthur nodded, quietly responding, “That would be nice, thank you.” 

Nodding, Francis got up and held a hand out to assist Arthur up with a sing-song voice, “Come along~.” The angel took the assistance and silently followed the humming demon’s lead down the short way to a broad door, which he cheerily knocked upon before bursting inside. 

“Antonio! Toni, mi love, 'ow are you doing this  _ fine _ morning?”

Roderich glanced up from his music notebook, rolling his eyes. He ignored the French demon while Antonio simply chuckled, turning to the door from his desk. 

“I'm doing just fine, Francis. But seriously, amigo, do you always have to burst in here?” 

Gasping dramatically Francis replied a mock-offended tone, “But of  _ course _ I must! 'Ow else does one such as  _ moi _ make 'is entrance?”

The other king shook his head in amusement, “What is it that you want, amigo?”

“I was wondering if Roderich 'ere could take Arthur to use your baths? While you and I do business, there a few things I need to discuss with you. Just a few small things, not to worry~.”

“Oh, yes of course.” He turned to Roderich, “Do you mind, Rodrigo?”

“No, of course not. In fact, a soak does sound gutte.” Getting up from his seat, “Follow me, Arthur.” 

The blond angel nodded and followed Roderich out of the room, leaving Antonio and Francis to speak privately. 

“So, amigo, what do you need?” he stood by his desk.

Francis sighed, “Advice, Tonio. I don’t know what to really expect with Arthur and I want to make ‘im ‘appy with me.” 

Antonio smiled, “I don’t know a lot about  _ Arthur _ , but he and Roderich seem pretty similar so I  _ might _ be able to help~.” 

“Merci, mon ami.” 

“Hmm~. Now, let’s see . . .” Antonio sat there a few moments, thinking about what he should tell his friend. “I’m sure, not long into Arthur living with you, he’ll begin to make a nest. Nests are a bit of a big deal, so try to help him with it without actually going near it. If he let’s you into his nest, he really trusts you, so don’t take it for granted.”

Francis nodded, taking mental notes as the other talked. 

“Wings . . . Don’t touch them unless you’re invited to do so, at least not until he trusts you. They usually groom their wings . . once a week or so? He may or may not let you join with the process, in all honesty.”

“Does Roderich let you?” 

“Si, but we’ve been together for some time. The only reason he let me touch them in the first place was because he was desperate. Molting season does that to you, I hear.” He smirked, continuing, “Speaking of, they molt once for about a month every other year.”

The Spaniard paused to think. “Obviously, try to get to know him -- his personality, likes and dislikes, et cetera -- and cater to him a bit. Treat him well and he’ll respect you, but remember that this is not his home. Not yet. He’ll possibly resent you for this, Francis.” 

“I do realize that. I only ‘ope ‘e will be able to see from my point of view as well.” 

Antonio hummed, nodding, “Of course, there are a few other things I should share with you . . .” 

 

Meanwhile, as Arthur and Roderich left the south king’s study . . . 

Arthur nodded and followed Roderich out of the cozy room, “How have you been, Roderich?”

“Well, now that I'm back home,” the archangel smiled. “One moment, if you please.” Roderich ducked into his room, grabbing clothes for the both of them and coming out with two bundles of white fabric. “I am sorry that they’re dresses, but it’s all I have.”

“It's alright,” he minutely frowned, tugging at the flashy skirt that clung to his hips. “Anything besides this  _ thing _ would be great.”

“Ja, demons seem to have a slight Lolita complex. At least when it comes to us angels.”

_ ‘You don’t say.’  _

“Quite odd creatures . . .”

Roderich opened door to the bath, both going inside. “I agree.”

As they pad in, Arthur got a good look around at the bath, marveling at the beautiful architecture, “ _ This _ is very nice, though.”

“Ja, being mated to a demon king does have its perks.”

_ ‘Is this what my life could be like? Fancy home and, perhaps, even a loving mate, but no real freedom to speak of? . . . Is it worth it?’ _

As questions filtered through his mind, the two pulled off their dresses and settled into the water with a hum or sigh, their wings spreading in the warm water to soak. 

Quite hesitantly, afraid to ask, even though the archangel knew the demon better than he at this moment, “If I may ask, Roderich . . . What can I expect from the Frenchman?”

“Francis can be quite the flirt, und dramatic, but he's not bad,” he answered. “Besides Antonio, I would say he's one of the nicest kings. But as with all demons, be careful about angering him.”

_ ‘And about mentioning pride, it seems.’ _

Arthur took in the information, muttering quietly at the last part, “I noticed. . .”

Unheard, the other chuckled, “I remember one time I angered Anton enough he locked me in my room for over a week.”

His eyebrows flitted up in concern. “Oh dear, really? What on Earth did you do to anger him so?”

Roderich slid his eyes to look at Arthur from their distant memory-recollection, becoming dead serious, “I went walking without an escort und without telling anyone where I was going. That, and when Anton did find me, I tried to walk away.”

_ ‘. . . Oh dear.’  _ Arthur shifted nervously, worried about what that might mean for himself. “. . . Sounds like a blast. I'll keep that on the list of 'what not to do.'”

“Ja. Thankfully, Kiku is never too far from me.” He quickly explained, “He usually escorts me, but keeps inside my shadow.”

“Well that's rather convenient.”

“It is. Perhaps you will be able to find someone like that at Francis' palace.”

Arthur hummed absently in agreement, hesitant at voicing his opinion. “. . . I'll be perfectly honest, I'm rather frightened of all this.”

“I was too, at first,” Roderich reassured. “The first few months with Antonio . . .” He shook his head, a telling silence.

_ ‘The first few months. . . I’m bound to anger him again. What if all I do is anger him and be the most unpleasant mate he could imagine, even if I try?’ _ Inhaling, Arthur tried to further put his questions into sentences, fumbling. “. . . Why did it get better for you?” Quickly, “Oh dear, that sounded rather rude. I mean,” he paused a moment to find his words. “What caused that positive turn?”

“Over time, I came to learn about Antonio. How kind he is. How willing he is to give me . . . everything. Especially when my wings were cut.”

Kindly, “I had heard about that, I'm very sorry it happened.”

“Danke for the sympathy. I was so depressed when that happened . . . sometimes I didn't even vant to live. But Antonio stayed beside me. And when my feathers grew back, he helped me stay.”

Arthur’s silent for a moment, thinking. “He is . . rather kind, isn't he? . . .  _ Perhaps _ . . this won't be horrible.”

They sat around for awhile, starting to groom their own wings, when Arthur started minutely struggling in reaching a patch of feathers. 

Noticing the struggles, the other kindly offered assistance, “Would you like some help grooming your wings?”

Despite wanting to say no, Arthur answered affirmatively, “Yes, would you? There are a couple spots I can't reach that rather need it.”

Roderich nodded and waded over, beginning to comb through the long feathers while Arthur combed through the more easily accessible feathers on himself. It wasn’t that he wanted to look his best and most  _ appealing  _ \-- that was far from it, concerning this Frenchman -- but he wanted to at least make a good impression. It was bad enough that he’s flesh and bones, with feathers dull from malnutrition, but to be unclean as well? He would rather die than make that impression.

“Thanks for talking to me about this. It's rather appreciated.”

“Ja, if you ever need to talk to me after du leave, just send me a letter. Either through Francis or his cousin Daniel, it will get to me.”

“I'll keep in touch, thank you.”

Roderich hummed, “You're welcome.” As he was grooming Arthur’s wings, “This is another thing I've found nice. Antonio loves helping me with my wings, I can imagine Francis will with you.”

Arthur simply snorted in amusement, “I'm sure he will. He's already tried to help with my  _ hair. _ You should have seen the look on his face!”

Roderich laughed quietly, his shoulders lightly shaking. “Everyone in Heaven  _ knows _ your hair is a lost cause.”

“I agree! But I don't quite think he's done trying. Rather determined wanker, isn't he?” He chuckled, despite the nagging fear that he will do just that.

“Francis does like finding beauty in all things and trying to bring it out.”

Arthur smirked, “He's going to be trying for a while then.” Roderich merely snorted.

The two continued their bathing, getting out soap and sponges, Arthur sighing happily for the amount of clean the bath is allowing him.

A smirk pulled at the corner of Roddy’s lips as he looked over Arthur’s frame, “So I see Francis got you.” He pointed to fox mark on the other’s collarbone, receiving a scowl in return.

“Indeed. . . Trust me for a moment, he said. I did and now I'm pretty much  _ branded _ .”

Roderich gave an amused hum. “I was quite pissed myself. Funny, how they don't realize that a mark like this,” he gestured to the bullmark on his own hip, “is an engagement to us.”

“Indeed. You know what Francis said to me when I disapproved?”

“No, what?

Mockingly, the angel tried to copy Francis’ accent. “‘It's not  _ so _ bad.’” Arthur frowned deeply, making a disgusted face. “What an arse!”

“Now that I think about it, I’m positive Antonio said something to the same effect.”

The British angel let out an annoyed puff of air. “Demons: They're idiots.”

“They do try so hard not to be, but zhey alvays do just . . . fall short.” Roderich smiled, a laugh slipping out.

“They really do.” Shaking his head, Arthur sighed. “Pitiful.”

Roderich chuckled, “But I did get Anton back for the mark.”

He smirked, Arthur’s lips quirking upwards smugly. “Really? Good. Same place too, I hope?

“Similar. I put mine on his lower back on the left side.” Arthur nodded in approval, smiling. Roderich paused, looking at the pile of feathers they had accumulated on the floor. “What do you want me to do with your feathers? Do you want to take zhem with, or just get rid of them?”

Arthur shook his head remorsefully, “I have no place for feathers. Please dispose of them.”

“Are you sure? We could get a bag for zhem so you can use them for your nest.” Roderich subtly prodded, attempting to bring the other some modicum of comfort in this strange, new world.

_‘Nest? I’m not staying long enough to make a nest. Why would I make any type of nest in a place I don’t consider home? It won’t take too long to escape, so I won’t be there long. . . But I’ll still be there a while, so . . .’_ Arthur worried at his lip, mulling it over before coming to a decision. “Well . . . Yes, actually, that would be nice.”

The archangel nodded, putting the feathers on the side of the bath to dry before getting out, pulling out towels for him and Arthur. He put one on the ledge while Roderich dried himself off with the other. Arthur followed leisurely, reluctant to get out of the hot water as he turned to the dresses Roderich brought as he dried off as well. “So, what dresses did you bring, if I dare ask?”

Roderich held one out, a small bundle of soft, white fabric, “Here's one for you.”

Arthur took it and let it hang from his hands a moment, looking it over. It was a simple piece, with sleeves one could easily pin up, a knee-length skirt, and a rather revealing neckline. It was too bad he had nothing to reveal beyond the tracer. As Roderich slipped into his own -- a mid-thigh length, light gray dress with ridiculous flaring sleeves that were absolutely beautiful -- he  pulled on the dress he was given, humming in surprise. “This is actually rather comfortable.”

“Ja, und you look very nice in it. The style suits you.”

Silently Arthur agreed, though he never admit it. “I still prefer trousers, but thank you.” 

“You're welcome.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose slightly, “I suppose we should go back to those idiots now, shouldn't we?”

The archangel nodded, but then an excited gleam entered his eyes. “You know . . . if you want, I can take you to the menagerie.”

Arthur’s green eyes widened and shone happily, smiling slightly, “Yes! I would rather like to see it.”

“It’s very beautiful. Antonio spent much effort in having it built. It's simply  _ ginormous. _ And the animals . . . they're gorgeous.” Roderich held the door open as they walked out towards Antonio's study.

Following, his eyes shone more at the description, his voice came out awed, “It sounds absolutely beautiful.”

“It's one of my favorite places to be. The library is also quite splendid, with a wealth of information and history.” 

Arthur smiled, “I can imagine.”

The brunette politely knocked once on Antonio's door before opening it to re-enter. Inside, the two demons looked rather relaxed, as they reclined in their chairs at the South King’s desk, like they had been discussing something before he and Roderich had come in.

The two of them looked up at the returning angels, Antonio was the first to speak up, “Ah, done already, querido?”

Roderich nodded, “Arthur und I were wondering if you two would like to join us going to the menagerie? If you're done with business, zhat is.”

From his seat, the Frenchman could barely see his little angel, but just as Antonio responded to his wife, Francis could finally see his little blond. 

“We're pretty much done,” Antonio turned to Francis, “wouldn't you say?”

Francis scanned Arthur up and down, nodding happily at the simple, fashionable attire, “Oui, that we are.”

Antonio smiled, “Then si, we would love to join you.” He walked past Roderich on his way out, holding out a hand to his archangel. The archangel slipped his hand in Antonio's, sending Arthur an encouraging smile as Francis joined them. The French demon also held an arm out for  _ his _ angel, smiling as the little angel watched carefully and shyly took the arm offered. Arthur kept his eyes, for the most part, down as the four walked down to the menagerie.

Francis leaned down to Arthur's ear, letting his warm breath ghost over the shell as he whispered, “You look very nice.”

Arthur shifted a bit uncomfortably at the attention and to hide the slight shiver from the warm breath, heart racing as he answered doubly as quiet, “Thank you.”

Francis smiled, refraining from groping. . . For now~.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Spaus script included in As the Feathers Lightly Fall~!
> 
> Austria: (Whispers to Toni.) I zhink we made a good choice, introducing them.  
> Spain: (Nods, whispering back.) Francis rather likes him, from what I hear. Any word from Arthur on that front?  
> Austria: (Whispers.) He's scared, as is to be expected, but . . . open minded to it. He at least realizes his situation isn't hopeless.  
> Spain: (Nods, whispering.) That's good. I think Francis will be good to him. . . He has definitely noticed Arthur's fear of the situation, but he's trying. Or, at least, that's what he told me. (Chuckles quietly.)  
> Austria: (Whispers.) Arthur's certainly better about zhis than I vas . . . but then again, you weren't Ryszard.  
> Spain: (Hums, whispering.) Indeed. . .  
> Austria: (Whispers, moving in closer to Toni.) You have no idea how thankful I am of zhat. (Pecks Toni's cheek.)  
> Spain: (Smiles, wrapping a wing loosely around Roderich as he whispers.) You'll never have to worry about that again, mi amor.  
> Austria: (Smiles, his eyes subtly shining.)


	5. Flying Around the Aviary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: No images used in this fanfic are ours unless otherwise stated. Their only purpose is for visual reference. Any music/videos used are also for reference, and nothing we own unless stated otherwise. I own nothing.
> 
> Welcome my lovelies~ Hopefully you guys are up for another chapter today. ;)

The walked in pretty calm silence to the menagerie, Francis and Arthur walking together behind the others. When they finally reached the menagerie, the demon king Antonio opened the door for the lot of them with a flourish.

“Enjoy~,” he said to Arthur with a cheery look.

Arthur simply quirked an eyebrow at the demon, stepping in with the others, but when he looked around the menagerie, his eyes brightened and his wings twitched happily. He absently released Francis's arm to wander farther in near Roderich, “Oh  _ my.” _

_ “I know,”  _ Roderich said.

As Antonio fell in beside Francis, he smiled at the two angels. “I always did like your menagerie, mon ami. Though mine is not too far off.”

Antonio chuckled in response, “I think Arthur will enjoy that in particular when you two return to your capital. When did you say you were going?”

“My visit 'as 'ad to be cut short. Tomorrow, unfortunately.” 

“That's too bad, your visit was a rather pleasant surprise.”

Francis smirked, “But of course it was, I am just  _ too _ fabulous, non?”

The brunette scoffed in response, “Sure, sure. You just saved me some work is all.”

He patted Antonio's cheek, “That's not all I saved, mon ami~.” Francis turned to his little angel, “Arthur, would you like me to untie your wings?”

The thin blond turned and looked to Francis gratefully as he padded up to the demon, outstretching his wings so the bindings could be removed, “Yes, please.”

Francis untied the green bindings, looping it around his neck as a scarf, “There. Now you may fly free.”

Roderich, having stood waiting for Arthur, took to the air with a mighty flap, all four wings beating. The little Brit smiled and promptly followed, looking glorious and free.

The two demons watched the angels fly in the air of the menagerie, Francis marveling at the perfection and sighing dreamily, “Tres belle.”

Antonio nodded, “ _ Si, muy hermoso~.” _

_ “ _ They wonder why we covet zhem so. To see this, everyday . . . No one would be un'appy.”

Sighing, Antonio smiled, “It must be of the most beautiful things I have ever seen . . .”

“I could watch them forever. So beautiful, yet ever changing. Their beauty evolves more and more as you watch.”

Antonio chuckled, “You sound like a book on the philosophy of life.”

“France 'as 'ad many great philosophes,  _ non?”  _

Antonio nodded, “True, it has.”

Roderich spun and dove, getting used to flying with four wings, Arthur doing the same and happily maneuvering through the air, diving, soaring, and spinning as he pleased.

“You know one thing I find fun?” Roderich said, flying beside Arthur.

Of course Arthur didn’t. “What?”

Roderich smirked, “Demon snatching.” And with that, he dove down and grabbed Antonio before he could react, the demon flustering.

Arthur hesitated but followed Roderich's example and dove down, snatching Francis up quickly- this demon also struggling as he attempted to flap his gold and white wings. The angel simply smirked at him, subtly helping him gain a bit of stability as they go. While flying, Francis twisted in a sudden move, so his arms were wrapped around the angel's waist and the two were flying together. 

The demon smiled, “ _ Salut~.” _

Arthur looked over at the clingy bastard and spun happily, in an attempt to loosen the other’s hold. “Hello.”

“It is good to see you smiling, mon petit. It looks very beautiful on you~.”

The angel rolled his eyes, “I finally have something to smile  _ about.” _

“Then it sounds like I'll just 'ave to keep looking for things to keep you smiling.”

_ ‘How very cute. Too bad.’ _ Arthur’s tone didn’t betray his thoughts, “You can surely try.”

“And succeed, mon petit ange~.” Francis released the angel’s middle, dropping and rolling midair, instantly correcting his flight.

Arthur scoffed. ‘ _ He's going to need a lot to succeed with that.’  _

Using his agility, Francis rolled and spun around the angel while flying, Arthur’s eyes narrowing at the showy attempt. He merely picked up his speed, banking sharply away from the demon when he wasn’t close enough, as to avoid colliding with Francis. The French demon hummed, speeding over to where Antonio was flying near Roderich with a conspiratory look in his blue eyes.

When the two demons nudged each other, smirking and nodding towards the trees, Arthur knew that they had something planned. The two started subtly herding the angels towards the trees, Roderich pushing back before suddenly diving in between the boughs. Arthur rolled his eyes and quickly followed the archangel into the mass of trees, weaving in and out between them.

Both demons were difficult to lose in the trees, their agility much better than the angel’s, and they kept up easily with their breakneck speeds. Arthur tried losing Francis in the trees, to much difficulty, and eventually dove down, taking a much straighter route through the forest, using his superior speed to gain ground. The two feathered beings joined up over a clear area and left the forest, intently followed by their demons. 

Out of nowhere, Francis flew up, arcing and diving in front of the angels, causing Roderich to screech to a halt, trying to turn so he wouldn't hit the South West King.

Arthur quickly backtracked, trying not to hit the foolish blond demon. Francis, using the pause, flew forward and tackled Arthur, pinning the angel's wings to his body. He sang smugly, “Caught you, mon petit~.” Arthur struggled against the grip, scowling at the demon. Francis chuckled, “Come, it is time for supper.” He landed, setting the angel down.

Arthur shook his wings briefly after being set down, settling down a bit in general.

He could hear the Spanish demon agreeing with his friend cheerily as he too landed, “Si, let's go eat, Rodrigo~.”

Arthur didn’t hear Roderich’s reply, but he  _ did _ see the demon laughing and running towards the door with Roderich in his arms. “Come on, Franny!”

Before the blond angel could realize, Francis had picked Arthur up and was racing after his friend, cackling a little.

Arthur struggled a small bit, but just ended giving up in general, sitting in the demon’s arms with a scowl on his face, “Must this become a habit?”

“Oui, but of course!”

He rolled his eyes at the demon, “Oh goodness. . .” 

“We can't 'ave our angels getting tired~,” Francis quickly nuzzled his cheek.

With a glare, he casually pushed Francis away. ‘ _ God help me.’ _

The demon chuckled, amused. “Let us get some food into you, skinny one.”

Arthur fluffed up a bit, trying to ignore the demon. He  _ knows _ he’s unhealthily thin. He knows how dull his feathers are. He knows about the bags under his eyes. He did  _ not _ need to be reminded about that. 

Francis must have felt him tense up, because the demon spoke kindly and lowly to him, “Don't worry. I know it is not by  _ your _ will it is so.”

He simply hummed in acknowledgement, quiet as can be.

Francis followed Antonio to one of the smaller dining rooms, setting Arthur down on a seat and taking the one next to him. Across from them, Antonio sat Roderich into a seat with a smile, sitting beside him. The Frenchman casually listened to their exchange, a small smile on his face.

“That wasn't nearly so bad as you thought, was it, Rodrigo?” Roderich simply ‘hmpf’ed in response and, as Arthur settled into the chair, he gave the archangel an understanding look which is returned.

Antonio noticed the exchange of looks as well and leaned over to catch Roderich's gaze, smiling warmly. Eventually the archangel sighed, smiling back at his husband, “Fine. It wasn't  _ that _ bad.”

The demon chuckled, bringing the back of Roddy's hands to his lips, “That's what I thought~.” Roderich blushed in response, shifting his eyes away.

Francis couldn’t help but wonder if he and Arthur would ever be that friendly with each other. He certainly hoped so. 

Thankfully the food arrived pretty quickly. The demons having some lovely rare steak -- because what demon didn't like blood? . . . unless it was  _ very _ well done (in either sense of the meaning) -- and the angels had soup. Both demons, as they’re all eating, subtly monitor how much their angels are consuming during the meal.

Arthur slowly, and rather tentatively, worked on the bowl of soup, not eating much more than half. Though his face is impassive, Francis’s eyes sparked angrily as he saw the effects of Ryszard's treatment. Who could do something like that to such a beautiful creature?

The angels finish pretty soon, not being able to eat much. Arthur sat quietly after pushing away his own bowl and, in all honesty, he didn’t feel very well  _ at all _ . Yet, he kept it to himself for fear of appearing weak. That was the  _ last _ thing he wanted.

As their meal drew to a close, Roderich leaned over and whispered to his demonic husband. The archangel didn’t look well at all, his face pale and body hunched over in pain. The demon whispered back hurriedly and, at an affirming nod, got up, scooping his wife into his arms. “You'll have to excuse us, Roderich isn't feeling very well. I'll speak with you later, Francis.” 

Francis nodded, understandingly, “Oui, see you, mon ami.” When the two had left, the blond turned to him, looking just as concerned as the other demon, “And 'ow are you 'olding up, mon petit?”

Arthur didn’t even consider telling the truth, but it edged in a small bit to make the lie more believable, “I don't feel very well myself, but not too horrible . . .”

“In any case, we should get you up to bed. You need your rest.” 

The angel nodded, with the smallest  _ hint _ of a smile on his lips, “That sounds pretty good right now.”

Francis gently scooped Arthur up after that, walking smoothly to their room. While the angel felt absolutely disgusted by the action, he had also definitely long since given up on fighting the demon --  _ He's obviously extremely touchy-feely  _ \-- and he settled calmly and comfortably in Francis's soft yet strong arms, head resting against the other’s shoulder. It’s not so bad. . . The demon had been  _ very _ kind to him, thus far, but -- knowing the ways of motivated demons -- he still had a grain of wariness. In his fatigue, however, most of that had been lost. 

Going into the room, the demon set Arthur down on the bed. On the angel's side, he also put a wastebin nearby, “Rest up, we leave tomorrow, _ joli on _ .” 

Arthur gave a small, grateful smile to the demon, carefully thinking about his words -- pretty one -- and how kind he seemed before curling up and pulling his wings around himself. He could feel Francis settling onto the bed close beside him, and he fell asleep, lulled by the hand petting through his hair. 


	6. Hungover From Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was in that soup . . . ? Nah, he just can't handle food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: No images used in this fanfic are ours unless otherwise stated. Their only purpose is for visual reference. Any music/videos used are also for reference, and nothing we own unless stated otherwise. I own nothing.
> 
> Sorry, I know I said five chapters on New Year's, but the holiday got crazy and I had school on the second to get back to. Here's your fifth!
> 
> I hope to update once every two weeks for sure, but I'm not sure when that's going to start. (January is going to be crazy for me.)

Early the next morning, Arthur woke with a jolt and dove over the side of the bed for the trashcan, promptly throwing up what little food he had yesterday. God, he felt  _ awful _ . In feeling like complete and utter  _ shit, _ he didn’t quite recognize the soft warmth engulfing his shoulders until he leaned back and found himself wrapped in a blanket, resting against the demon. His face flushed, mentally remarking at both the affection and the bin now filled with his supper.  _ Disgusting. _

The demon, however, didn’t even notice and simply brushed a few strands of hair from his little angel’s face, “Are you alright, mon petit?”

Arthur neary flinched away from the touch, it only expressing itself as a twitch. A twitch that did not go unnoticed by the demon. “It just hurts,” he ended up replying.

Francis gently rubbed the other’s back, adding a small bit of manipulated warmth to the angel through his touch so said angel would feel better, “Where does it hurt?” 

_ ‘Oh, why can’t I just be left alone?’  _ He flushed more, hating the attention, “M-my head. . . and stomach.” 

The demon nodded and shifted off the bed, hailing a passing servant. They exchanged some quiet words before Francis returned and slid back into the bed, finding the angel curled up and hiding his face in the pillow with a quiet whimper. The demon soothingly ran his hands through the other’s ridiculously messy hair, rubbing the other’s scalp to help with the Brit’s headache. Arthur didn’t say a word, but was quite happy with the gentle scratching. It helped much more than he thought it would. 

They stayed like that for the longest time -- ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? Who knew -- before hearing a light knock at the door, followed by a quiet and accented voice. “Franny?” 

Francis slid his hand from the other’s hair and padded to the door, opening it and answering quietly, “Keep your voices down, s'il vous plait. Mon petit 'as a 'eadache.” 

Antonio nodded, keeping his voice quiet as well, “Roderich thought Arthur might like a change of clothes, so we brought some over on our way downstairs.”

“Ah, thank you, lady Roderich. You are very kind.”

“Danke,” Roderich handed Francis the clothes to give to the older angel, “Also, ask if he would like to come down with us to say goodbye, bitte? I know he's close to Alfred, and vill vant to.”

He nodded, going back inside their room with a smile and sat down on the edge of the bed, speaking quietly, “Arthur? Roderich sent you some clothes. 'E also vants to know if we would like to come with to say goodbye to the other angels.”

Feeling much better from earlier in the morning, he nodded and got out of bed, taking the dress Francis was holding, “Please tell him I'll be just a moment.”

Francis nodded, smiling, and went to the door to tell the two that they'll be a moment, before going back into the room.

As he did, Arthur slipped into the washroom and changed into the dress as discretely and quickly as possible before cleaning up. He rinsed his mouth of that abhorrent taste of bile and washed up, trying to make himself look as proper and non sleep-deprived as possible. Unfolding the dress and holding it up, the angel could see it was a flowing white gown made of a light material. With a sigh, he slipped out of the old dress and into the new one, padding out of the washroom with the dress he was wearing before in hand. His voice was soft and demure when he spoke to the demon waiting for him, “May we go?”

“But of course, my lady,” Francis held open door for him, the angel repressing a scowl at the new title. 

He goes through the open door, nodding to Roderich and holding out the dress, “Thank you for bringing the change of clothes. I do appreciate it.”

“Keep the dress. In fact,” the archangel knelt, knocking on his shadow. From it, rose a bag. He took the dress and put it into the bag, handing it back. “Here, it also has your feathers in it.”

Arthur smiled gratefully and took the bag, slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thank you, Roderich.” The archangel nodded in acknowledgment, turning and linking arms with his husband as they all began to walk.

 

The four of them made it down to the room where were angels were kept and, thankfully, Ryszard wasn't there, but there was something there that gave the company pause: Alfred had a collar. A collar saying he'd been  _ purchased _ . Arthur paled and rushed over to the cage the moment he noticed the collar, “Alfred?”

The youngest angel got up off the floor and raced forward, grasping the bars, “Arthur! You've gotta get me outta here dude!”

He frowned sadly as he responded, “Alfred, I wish I could. . . Do you know who bought you?”

“All Ryszard said was some guy named Medved’ Krovi bought me!”

Francis’s eyes widened, “Oh mon diable . . .  _ Ivan.” _

_ “ _ Oh no,” the southern demon breathed. “Alfred I am so sorry.”

“Wha,” Alfred’s face screwed up in panic as he realized, “What? The  _ Blood King?! _ NO!! Get me OUT of here! PLEASE!!”

Withering at the news, Arthur leaned against the bars of the cage.

“Alfred, calm down! You. Will. Be. Fine.  _ I promise.”  _

_ You can’t promise  _ **_anything_ ** _ , Roderich. _

“So long as you don't give him a reason to hurt you, he  _ won't,”  _ the archangel says.

Arthur snapped, whirling around at Roderich, “Do you even  _ know _ Alfred?! He's  _ bound _ to get himself into trouble! . . . Can't we help him?  _ Please?”  _ He turned to the two demons as well, hoping one of them could do  _ something _ .

“ _ Und vhat can ve do?!”  _ the archangel snapped back. “ _ Nothing. _ This all rests on  _ Alfred's _ shoulders.” He turned his glare to Alfred, “ _ Use _ zhat mind I  _ know _ you hide.”

Alfred gulped, looking nervous and frightened. The English angel turned back to Alfred, murmuring hesitantly, “Alfred . . . he’s right. It’s all on  _ you _ .”

His wings puff and flutter agitation, “Why me?  _ Why _ does he want  _ me?” _

Arthur shook his head, “I don't know.” Trying to be hopeful, “Surely, if he paid for you he doesn't intend to hurt you. Be hopeful.”

“Besides, mon petit, it is not  _ Ivan _ you should be worrying about most.”

“Who else is there  _ to _ worry about?” Alfred asked, as if there was no one else.

“His  _ first captain. _ Natalya,” the southern demon chimed.

Confusedly, the youngest angel asked, “Why?”

“She is his younger sister, und is protective of him,” Roderich answered.

Francis added quite bluntly to the statement, “She also wishes to marry ‘im.” 

Alfred paled, whispering faintly, “ _ Oh. _ That's . . . ”

Antonio nodded, “Yeah. Watch out for her.”

“. . . I am so fucked.”

Lukas spoke to him simply in reply, “Calm yourself.”

The Southern demon thought to himself, giving hesitant advice, “I suggest staying close to Ivan. Keep him happy. As long as Ivan's happy, he'll protect  _ you. _ He's scary, I won't pretend he isn't, but it might help.”

“Look for and gain allies vherever you can. It is vhat I did,” Roderich added to the advice. 

“You'll be okay, Alfred. Have faith,” Tino reassured.

“Yeah. . .” The young angel trailed off, unconvinced he was going to be alright.

Lukas swept a wing around the younger angel from the inside of the cage with his usual blank eyes, Tino giving a small, hopeful smile and doing the same from Alfred’s other side. Alfred huddled into the wings of the older angels, “Thanks guys.”

Arthur slightly scowled, muttering in feigned irritation, “The next time I see you, you best be holding onto that annoying smile of yours.”

Alfred grinned, “Can't get rid of it that easily, Iggy.”

The older angel nodded, despite the awful nickname, and was proud of the younger angel, “I should hope not.”

Beside him, Francis smiled and sent a pointed look at Arthur, “Oui, smiles are prettier than frowns.”

At the scowl he received, the demon ruffled a hand through the angel’s wings, Arthur giving him a slight, barely noticeable push away with his wings. He grumbled at the jab to at his expressions, “I prefer frowning. It's much more expressive for my face, thank you.”

Teasingly, Francis agreed with a smirk, “Your eyebrows do grow even more apparent, oui.”

His feather fluff up slightly in response, _ “I beg your pardon?” _

The demon sang smugly in response, like the smug bastard he was, “You ‘eard moi~.”

Arthur’s face further hardened and he moved a couple paces away from the demon, trying not to start a physical fight with Francis, but he still heard the amused hum from the other.

In a small attempt to calm them both, Roderich changed the subject,  _ “Anyvays, _ we came here to say goodbye.” 

Tino’s face fell a bit, “When are we going to see each other again? We are going to, right?”

The archangel nodded, “I should zhink so. Zhe kings certainly come over  _ here _ enough.”

Silently, the two demon kings exchanged a mirthful and pointed look, knowing that it was so true. With Francis being in the next door kingdom to the South, he certainly visited the most out of all the kings.

This went unnoticed by Tino, who simply hummed, “I hope so. . . I’d hate if we never saw each other again.”

Arthur nodded in agreement, Lukas joining in as well, “I as well.”

“Me too. If we didn’t, that would just be,” Alfred paused, finding the right word, “unawesome.”

Antonio chuckled, remembering his friend had the same phrase, “Too bad Gilbert didn't get a shot at you, Alfred. I think you two would get along well.”

Alfred quirked an eyebrow, “He another king?”

Roderich nodded, “Ja, he's zhe Shadow King, remember?”

“Oh,” Alfred hesitantly nodded. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Antonio nodded as well, “He's a good friend.”

The youngest replied with a noncommittal tone, wordlessly saying he was done with the conversation, “Sounds cool.”

Interrupting their declining conversation, Roderich spreads his wings a bit, “At any rate,” he said, giving a slight bow. “May the wind und light always join to meet your wings.”

Lukas nodded and bowed a bit more deeply to the archangel, the others following suit, “And you yours.”

Arthur bowed as well to the imprisoned angels, “I hope you all find good places to call home.”

“I hope yours turns out good too, Artie,” Alfred said and turned to Francis seriously, “Hurt him, I kill you.”

The demon simply chuckled in response, nodding, and Arthur gave a small smile to the younger angel, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Anytime, dude,” Alfred laughed in response.

Antonio nodded to the angels respectively. “I wish you all the best of luck and, if all goes as planned, I think you will all be alright. But,” he said, turning to Francis, “I might beat Alfred to it if you're an ass. So don't be one.” The demon smiles, the tiniest edge of malice in the grin that all of the angels noticed. 

Francis had a mock-affronted attitude, replying to his friend without skipping a beat, “Mon ami, do you 'ave  _ no _ faith in  _ moi?” _

The trace of malice gone, Antonio chuckles, “I do, but I'm just saying . . .”

“ _ Hmph. _ ” Francis tossed his hair at the demon, turning to the angels in the cage. “Au revoir, sweet angels. I do 'ope we meet again.”

With that, the group walked to the main gates mostly in silence, Arthur absently pinching the skirt of his white dress in partial irritation that it was a  _ dress _ and partially to keep his hand from trembling. They were leaving. He would be surrounded by demons from now on, without an angel for miles. He wondered to himself if, despite being oldest, he was the most terrified. Such a journey and life would be horrid for him, bound forever to this demon and to this dark land.  _ “No,” _ he reminded himself,  _ “it wouldn’t be forever.” _ He was going to escape and his plans were already in motion.

Francis pulled two robes from his long coat, handing one to Arthur and throwing the other to Antonio, “'Ere, I was able to convince Ryszard to give me another, so now you may travel vith Roderich.” The other demon smiled broadly at this.

“ _ Gracias, mi amigo. _ I appreciate it,” Antonio beamed.

Roderich was just as polite with his answer, simply saying, “Danke, King Francis.”

“You are welcome, mon amie.”

While the three spoke, Arthur unfolded the thick, dark material that was the robe and headscarf, the fabric embroidered with pale thread that made the article go from something plain to rather nice pieces of clothing. He pulls on the robe and scarf, pulling them carefully around himself to protect against the realm’s atmosphere. The blond turned to Roderich and spoke with genuine gratitude in his voice, though his face showed little.

“I hope to see you soon, Roderich. Thank you for everything,” he gave a slight nod to the bag at the end.

“And I. Zhough I thought of a few zhings you might like to know.” Roderich leaned close, keeping his voice quiet, despite the two demons deep in their own conversation, “Perhaps zhis has already happened, but don't be surprised if demons start giving you the title of ‘My lady’, or similar titles.”

Arthur nodded, replying quietly, “I've noticed. Thank you though.”

“Two more things, Arthur.  _ Please _ be careful about challenging Francis. Demon kings  _ don't _ like their authority being challenged.” Arthur could tell from the other’s tone that he expected the blond to challenge Francis as quickly as possibly to establish a more “just” relationship.

Arthur simply nodded again, “I'll be careful. What's the other thing?” 

The younger angel spoke carefully, “I know in Heaven, we must be strong. Never show that you have a weakness. But around him, you  _ can. _ It's okay to  _ not _ be strong.”

The elder hesitated, but nodded with a slight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Roderich nodded, “May the wind und light always join to meet your wings.” He gave a slight bow, Arthur returning with a deeper one.

“And yours, Roderich.” At this point, the two demons had come to the end of their exchange and came over to join them.

Francis spoke kindly to Roderich from beside his angel, “Goodbye, sweet Roderich. Au revoir, my oldest friend. Until next time.”

“Adios. I'll be seeing you sometime soon, I'm  _ sure, _ ” Antonio smirked.

As Francis returned the smirk and opened the door, Arthur nodded cordially to the broader demon as he said his own farewell, “It was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for helping us.”

“And you, Arthur. I hope all goes well for you.”

Francis gave a sharp whistle and within a few moments, a whooshing noise was heard and a strange beast landed before them, seemingly made of flesh and fire. It was around seven feet tall and quite sleek and dangerous looking. Arthur examined the creature and its mane of flickering flames from a distance, rather fearful. “What is  _ that? _ ” 

Francis replied proudly, “Ardeur, my Kirin. Belle creature, isn't she?”

The angel’s eyes were still quite wide as he nodded in agreement. “Beautiful, yes, but,” he quieted a bit, “will she burn us?”

The demon looked appalled. “ _ Of course not! _ She knows better, she is not a bébé.” He padded over, reaching up to stroke the Kirin's long face, and spoke gently to the angel, “Come, see.”

Arthur carefully crept towards the creature and Francis and tentatively went to stoke the creature’s face, his eyes softening at her own gentleness. “S-she isn't so bad. . .”

Francis grinned triumphantly. “Now up you go!” He lifted Arthur by the waist onto the Kirin's back, jumping up behind him.

Roderich, at this point now wearing his headdress, padded up to the creature and lifted a hand for the Kirin to smell. Finding him acceptable, the Kirin allowed Roderich pet her and he did, murmuring quietly to her while Arthur and Francis adjust on the Kirin’s back. Along with Arthur, who was easily settled, Antonio watched Roderich interact with the creature, smiling. 

Antonio hesitantly interrupts them, despite wanting to continue to watch them, “Come on, Rodrigo. They'll be needing to go.” Roderich reluctantly pulled away and stood beside Antonio, watching the two leave. 

The demon behind Arthur shifted closer, grabbing the reins on either side of him, and murmured into the other’s ear, “‘Old on tight, we are about to go  _ very _ fast.”

Obediently for his own safety, the angel does as he’s told and holds onto the creature firmly, no longer afraid of her or her curling flames.

With a 'click' the two were up in the air and racing away, Ardeur protectively curling her nearly tangible flames around them. As the landscape blurred past below them, Arthur drew in on himself, thinking out his plan in the fullest detail since he was given the opportunity. So far, Francis had done nothing to suggest that he was an inconsiderate and low-living demon like the others, but he couldn’t be too sure. People -- angels, demons, humans, others -- could put up masks in a moment and rip them away just as quickly, hiding their every movement so they were unpredictable. (The moment in the hall was proof enough of that.) He was wary, but he had the niggling feeling that this demon wasn’t like that -- not that he’d ever stop to listen to that feeling -- and he should trust him. Yet, in the five hours it took to get to the South West capital, Arthur could feel his trust for the demon slipping more and more.


	7. A Place of His Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A taste of life in the South West.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Cermaka is the Czech Republic. Just our fan name. Marianne is also Nyo France.  
> Also note: The upload schedule is once every two weeks. Ex: First few episodes/chapters = January 1; this episode = January 14; next = January 28. Stay tuned!

 

Upon arriving in the capital, their group landed and guards immediately alit around them, encircling their king and his new angel. Francis dismounted and held a hand out for Arthur, looking his kind self as usual. 

“I ‘ope you feel alright after zhat?” 

Arthur took the hand and slid of the Kirin, a little wobbly, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he answered, “I feel fine. That was  _ amazing _ .” He turned Ardeur, stroking the creature’s face gently, “As are you, love.” 

The Kirin snorted and nuzzled Arthur’s face, gaining a smile and a return nuzzle from the angel. 

Arthur murmured, keeping his voice low enough for only the creature, “Thank you for getting us here safely. It was wonderful.” 

Francis smiled gently at the angel, eyes soft, “I am glad you like ‘er.” 

The smile on the angel’s face slipped a bit as he looked at Francis, trying to be a bit friendly, yet staying cryptic with his reply, “She . . reminds me of a creature I knew once.” 

And it was true, he had known a creature like her before. It was when he was a young angel, only around a thousand year old, when he met a unicorn. Pure, solitary, and perfect. He knew her for many years, but as the threat of humans grew, she was driven out and killed. And Arthur couldn’t do anything about it, despite his attempts to. 

Francis gestured Arthur to follow him inside. “Oh?”

Melancholically, he gave Ardeur a light pat before following the demon inside, humming affirmatively. Once they were inside the protection of the castle, Francis carefully helped his angel out of the headdress and robe, knowing it was cumbersome. Arthur sighed as he collected and folded them both, and -- after tucking them into his bag -- he looked at their surroundings silently. The palace was tastefully decorated in mostly white, with hints of red and orange. In some odd -- but not unpleasant -- places, there was a bit of blue. Where there was metal, it was  _ gold _ . 

Arthur thought it was rather fitting for the king, the  _ fox of sparks _ , to have such a pallette. It was pristine and clean, but it gave such an air to him that made him . . . recognizable. No one could ignore his presence. In a way, it was that the angel feared most. Would escape be as easy as he hoped?

“‘Ere,” Francis held out an arm to Arthur. “Allow me to show you to your room. And give you a tour, of course.” 

Arthur nodded, taking the arm, and answered quietly, “That sounds wonderful, thank you.” 

The demon led him down the halls, absently pointing out which halls lead to what. He showed the training room, the kitchen, ballroom, dining room, throne room, and more, watching for  _ any _ reaction from the angel. Arthur was careful to keep his emotions masked and quiet, not drawing too much attention to himself, even though every demon that saw him stopped to gawk for a few moments before hurrying along. He didn’t want to be here. 

Eventually, they made it to the King’s hall and Francis pointed to a door. “Zhat is my room. The one next to it is yours, if you so desire,” the demon said, going forward and opening the door to Arthur’s room. “I ‘ope you like it.” 

Arthur released the other’s arm to go inside the room and look around. It was elegant and rather beautiful, what he expected from the demon at this point. It wasn’t the worst he had been in, by a  _ lot _ . It was gorgeous, but he wasn’t about to overreact to it. “It’s nice, I like it.” He hesitantly looked back at Francis and mustered a small, polite smile. “Thank you.”

“I am glad,” Francis replied, pecking the shorter angel’s temple.

Arthur internally cringed, trying not to reject the demon no matter how much he wanted to. His eyes flitted up a mere moment before returning to the floor. “I was wondering,” he awkwardly began, “ . . . what should I call you?” 

“Francis is as fine a name as any, mon petit.” 

Internally, he snapped, ‘ _ I am not yours.’ _ He simply nodded, “Thank you, Francis.” 

It was not hard to sense the tense, forced atmosphere enveloping him, so Francis knew he had to think fast. Suddenly, he broke the silence, “I’ll show you where zhe baths are.” 

Arthur nodded, pulling the bag off his shoulder and setting it on a table before following as the demon walked out and down the hall to another door, opening it to reveal a Roman-style bath. In one corner of the pool was a small, raised fountain that caused the water of the bath to ripple gently. The angel peeked inside, nodding in approval of the architecture and the promise of  _ cleanliness _ . 

He spoke quietly, hesitant to speak in his real, non-submissive voice, “One thing I have to hand to you demons: You have pretty decent style.”

Francis agreed, “Of course we do. A good way to show off power is wealth. It tells ozhers how successful you are.”

It was with a sinking feeling that Arthur realized he was just a show of wealth and was rather ashamed, ducking out of the bath with his eyes down once again.

Francis simply rolled his eyes at the dramatic angel, amused. He reeled the angel into a hug, Arthur’s back to his front, and rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, speaking soothingly, “Shh. You’re alright. I may not know you very well yet, but I do like you, Arthur. Make no mistake about zhat. Oui?”

Arthur silently nodded, curling into himself a bit. He felt like he had to protect himself and, obviously, was afraid. 

At the tensing of the angel, Francis softened up even more. “You don’t understand, do you?” He sighed at the lack of response, letting the angel go. “Come, I’ll show you to zhe menagerie. It isn’t far.”

Arthur lightened up the smallest bit at mention of the menagerie, nodding. The demon strode down the hall, turning four times before coming to an ornate glass door. 

Humming, Francis opened the door, letting the angel go inside first. “Welcome, to zhe Gold Garden.”

Arthur blinked at the demon and curiously stepped inside, looking around and instantly realizing the reason for its name. Like menagerie in Roderich’s territory, there was metallic  _ everywhere _ in the lush plant life. There were gold-stemmed ruby roses, moving just like a more natural rose from Earth, lilies that had petals that shimmered, and more. It was amazing and surreal. He stretched his wings out a bit, wanting to explore, but he looked back at Francis for permission, knowing better at this point.

Francis waved him along, “Go a'ead. I will be back, I just need to grab some of my work from my study.”

Arthur nodded and took off, flapping his wings to take to the air, going higher and higher to simply hover over the menagerie. He paused to take in the immense size of the menagerie before leisurely circling the perimeter, taking it  _ all _ in. As he traversed the menagerie, Francis left to retrieve his things as he said, also returning with a short demon girl who carried his papers and a tray of tea. From a distance, Arthur watched the the short brunette set down the materials on a table at the small gazebo, turning to watch him him with curious eyes. To be entertaining to her, Arthur did a few aerial maneuvers as he flew around, enjoying the freedom.

Francis sat in the gazebo for a few hours, filling out forms and other pieces of information, reading reports and general things about his kingdom, and looking up every once in awhile to watch his angel flying. Noticing the time, he told Cermaka to bring them some food, which she promptly returned with. (It was only so prompt because she was a small shadow demon who could travel through and manipulate shadows.) Francis called to the angel, “Arthur? Would you come down? I 'ave food for us.” 

Arthur hesitantly flew back down to the demon and the young girl, landing close by and padding over. He eyed the girl -- whose green eyes are wide, shining, and ever-curious -- as he sat near Francis, wondering if the girl was a slave like he had seen elsewhere. He speaks politely to Francis, “Your menagerie is wonderful, Francis. It was rather beautiful throughout its boundaries.”

“Merci.” Francis turns to the demon girl and gestures to her. “Arthur, I would like you to meet Cermaka. She is to be your handmaiden and escort, just as Kiku is to Roderich.”

The angel smiled at the girl politely. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Cermaka.” 

The brunette demon, Cermaka, nodded with a small smile of her own. “And I you, Arthur. I look forward to help you settle here.”

Arthur could feel his heart sink a bit at the word  _ ‘settle,’ _ but he remains polite to her, nodding back. It wasn’t  _ her _ fault he was here, after all. He turned back to the table of food and Francis, trying to be polite with Francis as well. “She is certainly sweet and polite.” 

“Oui, zhat is why I chose ‘er,” Francis replied.

Arthur nodded. “A good choice.” He looked over the table, his stomach almost flipping at the scent of  _ food _ . It smelled wonderful, but he was still not used to  _ eating _ . “The food looks absolutely lovely as well.” 

Francis responded pleasantly, “Oui, Marianne ‘as always been a good cook.” 

Arthur smiled weakly, “I do hope it tastes as good as it looks . . and smells.” 

The two of them ate in silence, Francis eating some rather rare and bloody pork while Arthur had soup. Though the angel enjoyed the soup immensely, he didn’t come close to finishing it, pushing the bowl away with about a third left. When Francis finishes as well, he looks at Arthur and nods to himself, “To bed with you, I do believe. Now where would you prefer? Your room, or mine?”

‘ _ His room? Oh God, of course he wants that. _ ’ Feeling positively sick, he keeps his head low and voice quiet in response, “My room, if that’s alright.” 

“Of course it is. I won’t force you.” Francis rose, grabbing his papers, and -- with a snap -- made the tray of food disappear into thin air. Arthur followed as the demon swept out of the menagerie, nodding to himself at the other’s words. ‘I won’t force you.’ That would be something new. 

Getting to the King’s hall, Francis opened the door to Arthur’s room for him and pointed to a wardrobe. “Clothes should be in zhere. Don’t leave your room tonight unless you are coming to find me, s’il vous plait. Zhere are guards that patrol zhat do not take zhe most kindly to wanderers, oui?”

Arthur nodded. “I understand.” He drifted inside, stopping as he closes the door. He peeks back at Francis, not really looking at him but more at the ground. “I really do appreciate all of this, Francis. And . . . though it is only the first day, it’s not nearly so bad as I thought it would be. Thank you.”

Francis blinked at him and smiled, pleasantly surprised. “De rien, mon beau petit ange,” he said, returning to his own room to slip into sleeping clothes and fall asleep in his bed. 

Arthur weakly smiled in return, it falling the moment he was in his room, replaced by a scowl. ‘ _ My beautiful little angel. Tch. As  _ **_if_ ** .  _ I’ll be out of here in no time. _ ’ He padded to the wardrobe and was even more angered to find more of the same inside: dresses and similar apparel. He shuffled through them to find a long nightgown that he slipped on before climbing into bed, pulling his wings around him. He stayed awake for a long period of time in the dark, thinking and forming his solid plans, before drifting off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's next for Arthur, do you guys think? Do comment below~.


	8. Testing the Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Might want to be careful. If you aren't, the water might burn you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hey . . . I really do apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve uploaded. I know I said two weeks per chapter, but nothing has been as orderly as I’ve wanted it lately. Plus I’ve been having a giant rut with this story, especially with fitting the timeline with AFLF.  
> From now on: No promises; I’ll upload as soon as possible and as often as possible!   
> Enjoy with zhe newest chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer as always: No images used in this fanfic are ours unless otherwise stated. Their only purpose is for visual reference. Any music/videos used are also for reference, and nothing we own unless stated otherwise. I own nothing.

 

Arthur woke the next morning in his own bed, stretching out leisurely before stiffening and shifting carefully to look around the empty room. Seeing no one around, he carefully slipped out of bed and looked around the room in all the nooks and crannies, honestly expecting Francis to be there, preying on him, but after a thorough search, he found no one but himself. 

He padded silently to the wardrobe and opened it up, revealing the mirror on the inside of the door and the clothes within. Sorting through the surprisingly simplistically styled clothes, he eventually found a very conservative dress -- the  _ only _ one below shin length -- and slipped it on quickly, combing through the perpetually messy hair on his head. Just as he nodded in approval at his appearance, there was a knock at the door. 

Tense, the angel padded over and opened the door, revealing Francis, already up and cheerful.

_ ‘He seems to definitely be the cheerful type,’ _ he thought to himself.

“Bonjour, Arthur. May I come in?” the demon greeted.

Arthur quietly nodded, opening the door enough for Francis to enter. He swept in, the regal ass that he was, and pulled out a chair for Arthur, smiling kindly. Though the angel was still quite wary of him, he closed the door and sat in the chair as offered, hands folded calmly in his lap.

He spoke up as the demon took his own seat. “What brings you calling?” Mentally scolding at something so improper, he tried to correct himself. “I mean-” 

A chuckle from the demon cut him off. “Non, it is quite alright. I came to return this to you.” He pulled out the vial of green-glowing silver and held it out to Arthur.  _ His Grace. _

Surprised he was  _ actually _ getting his Grace back, Arthur flicked his eyes from the vial to Francis. He cautiously took the vial, expecting the demon to snatch it away teasingly, and stood after a moment. Popping off the top, he briefly glanced at Francis. “You may want to look away.” The demon complied, letting Arthur drink down the Grace. The moment it touched his lips, he could feel the magic -- his magic -- and strength return to him, his wings reaching out as the tips burned bright white, the glow nearly blinding. The rims of his irises also glowed as the Grace was fully absorbed, Arthur feeling all the abilities he has needed to escape now within his grasp. 

With the glow dimmed, Francis looked at the angel and smiled. He would not soon forget the look of pure joy on the other’s face. Happily, he noted that the color and healthy luster was already returning to Arthur’s eyes, face, and wings, making him look like so much  _ more, _ despite his still unhealthily thin frame. He ordered up breakfast for the two of them silently, using the gold bangle at his wrist. 

Feeling eyes on him, Arthur faced the demon, tucked his wings back against his body, and sat back down, setting the empty vial on the table. “Thank you.” 

Francis pocketed the vial, knowing he would find another use for it. “But of course. I did promise, didn’t I?” 

“You didn’t, actually,” Arthur said very matter-of-factly. 

Francis waved it off with a smile. “I said I would when we got ‘ome. ‘Ere we are and there you are. Close enough.” 

The angel huffed, earning a chuckle from the demon. “I ‘ave ordered breakfast already. It should be up soon. Is there anything you cannot eat?” 

_ ‘I could name off a few things, but I don’t think they’re the answers you are looking for.’   _ “No, there’s nothing I cannot eat. Except bloody meat.”

The demon nodded. “As I suspected. Most angels cannot ‘andle blood like demons.” 

A servant came in quietly, bringing food on a tray, and quickly ducked out after setting said tray on their table. On the tray of food was a good selection of fruit, as well as the usual breakfast items. Surveying the tray, Arthur was disappointed to see no tea and served himself up after Francis, not realizing the look was on his face. 

Francis noticed the look nearly immediately. “Is there something you’d like?” 

Quiet, Arthur admitted that he would like some tea and, surprisingly to the angel, Francis wasted no time in ordering up some tea for them both. In relative silence, the two ate their meal, trying and failing not to be awkward about it. Arthur just didn’t know what his place here was, yet. Sensing this confusion, Francis kindly explained when he was done with his meal. 

“You are to be my companion, mon petit.” Seeing the other tense considerably, he amended the statement. “My companion in the ways  _ you _ are comfortable with. I will not force you out of your comfort zone. You have been through enough in this realm.” 

Indeed, being captured, tortured, starved, and repeatedly raped would be  _ more _ than enough. 

Arthur nodded, head down. “Thank you.” 

_ ‘’E’s still tense.’ _ He spoke comfortingly in response, “De rien, Arthur. I ‘ope you know that I am not a ‘orrible demon. Oui, I am a demon, but I ‘ave standards.” 

The angel silently nodded, speaking quietly after a few moments. “Are . . there any rules I should know about?” 

The demon nodded. “Do not go without an escort anywhere. Cermaka is your ‘andmaiden and escort, so she should be with you always should you need anything. The obvious things that you would ‘ear most say -- don’t break things, be respective, et cetera -- and, of the most important to  _ moi, _ tell me  _ as soon as you are able _ if a demon touches you unpleasantly. Simple enough, oui?” 

Arthur didn’t miss the darkness at the end of those rules. This demon  _ really _ didn’t want anyone else’s hands on his ‘property.’ Surprise, surprise. . . “Yes, plenty simple.” 

“Bon.”

 

Over the next few days, Francis tried his best to get to know Arthur, while the angel did his best to keep quiet, head down, and not make himself look suspicious as he tried harder and harder to clean up his plan to escape. Today, he finally got it all in order and figured out, and he’s about to escape.

Early in the morning -- no earlier than usual -- Francis knocked on Arthur’s door, a tray of breakfast foods in his hands. “Salut? Arthur? I ‘ave breakfast~.”  

The angel opened the door for Francis, beckoning him in. “Come in, come in.” Obviously, he was having some trouble concealing his impatience to  _ leave _ . Francis doesn’t even notice, coming in and setting the tray down on a small table in the room. He pulled out a chair for Arthur, waiting for him to sit before going to his own chair. 

Arthur suppressed the desire to snub the demon and pull out his  _ own _ chair and sat in the chair pulled out for him, but with a semi cold expression. He unfolded his napkin and gave it a light shake before tucking it on his lap, waiting for Francis to sit and serve himself. 

Easily noticing the cold and somewhat sassy expression, Francis narrowed his eyes slightly, but shook his head and sat down anyway. He grabbed a few things to eat before nomming on some toast with raspberry jam. The two ate in silence, Arthur continuing his silent treatment and Francis continuing to try and be conversational near the end of their meal. 

“‘Ow are you this morning, Arthur?” 

He replied simply and without too much emotion, “Fine, thank you. And you?” 

Francis smiled. “Well enough. Would you like to join me in the study today? Afterwards we can go to the menagerie.” 

Arthur thought it over quickly, coming to the realization that he wouldn’t be able to get away if he went with the demon, not that he wanted to spend time with him in the  _ first _ place. “Actually, could I just go and spend some time in the menagerie?” 

“ . . As you wish.” The demon thought this was odd, but said nothing of it. “Come see me at four, s'il vous plait.” 

Done, the angel hummed in . . . agreement? And gave a slight nod as he rose from his seat, starting towards the door. “I shall see you later, Francis.” 

Francis watched through narrowed eyes as the angel left, and then goes to his study alone, paying close attention to the tracer that wanders about the castle with Arthur as he takes “the long way” to the menagerie. 

Arthur peeked into a few different rooms, trying to avoid demons wherever possible, as he looked for the demon servants that were going to help him get out. After finding said servants, he spoke to them for a small while and continued on to the menagerie, knowing Francis was watching. His plan was put in effect by two o’clock in the afternoon, barely giving him enough time for proper execution.  

Francis immediately noticed the tracer leaving the menagerie and wandering around . . suspiciously near the  _ exit _ of the  _ castle _ . He got up and cut through the castle, crossing Arthur’s path. He appeared calm, but he had a good feeling what the angel is up to. “Bonjour, Arthur~.” 

Instant panic filled Arthur’s mind, but his face hardened and he slipped down another walkway, using a spell to get through the wall. 

Eyes narrowed, Francis easily moved through the shadows to the other side and materialized in front of Arthur, speaking with a warning tone, “Arthur . . .” 

Thinking quickly, the angel drew forth his sacred blade and swung at the demon, eyes filled with fire. The king easily took a step back out of range and summoned his shadows, making them wrap around Arthur’s legs and pull him away from the demon. 

His own eyes hard, a cold, bright blue, Francis wrapped more shadows up Arthur’s body, pinning the wings down and stilling him completely. Arthur looked around in panic, trying to summon his magic, but it’s all blocked by  _ something _ . He hisses at the demon, like a defensive cat. 

 

Unfazed by the hissing, he took a dangerous step forward, staring down the little angel.  _ “Be careful, Arthur. Even I ‘ave my limits.” _

Arthur glared at the demon and tried to wrench himself out of the grip of the shadows, if only to defend himself.  _ “You too should be careful, Francis.”  _

The demon prowled farther forward.  _ “Oh?” _

Arthur’s glare deepened, wanting to rise up against the overbearing demon.  _ “Oh.” _

“The way  _ I _ see it,  _ Arthur _ , you have no access to your magic or your sword, and you are completely immobile.  _ I have nothing to be careful about. _ ” 

Arthur shifts angrily, growling,  _ “What did you do to me?” _

Stepping forward, the demon simply slipped his hand into the shadows at Arthur’s throat and pulled against the metal binding collar he slipped onto the angel.  _ No more magic, no more Grace. _

The angel’s eyes widened, the panic finally slipping through. ‘ _ No. No, no, not again. Not this again.’  _ He screeched at the demon, doing his best to thrash in the grip of the shadows,  _ “GET IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF, YOU BASTARD!”  _

“No.” Francis took a step back. “You left me no choice.” 

Arthur strained under the dark grip.  _ “Why won’t you just let me GO.” _

Those blue eyes softened slightly, looking over the desperate creature before hardening again.  _ “Because if I let you go, you will be torn apart. Or worse, someone else will get you, and they won’t nearly be as nice as I. This is for your protection.” _

Arthur’s eyes widened, unfortunately knowing the truth of that statement. If a demon used bindings like they have in the past, they would easily control him. Not to say that Arthur wouldn’t fight it constantly, he just wouldn’t be able to get out of it. He spat out stubbornly at the demon,  _ “What makes you think I  _ **_need_ ** _ your protection?” _

Francis simply gestured to the state Arthur was in, letting that be his answer.  _ “I warned you time and time again. I don’t take kindly to disrespect. Since you seem incapable of apologizing, per’aps some time alone will ‘elp you reflect.”  _

Mouth closed in a thin line with no intention of apologizing, Arthur glared down the demon as he unwrapped the shadow and latched onto the creature’s arm, dragging him back upstairs. The angel started to thrash and, to deal with this, Francis’s tail wrapped around the other’s waist, pinning his feathered wings down. With nothing coming of the thrashing, Arthur tried lashing out with a fist or foot in the attempt to hit something vital. Preferably the twonk’s  _ crotch _ . Francis also deals with that easily, the angel weak in his grip. 

Dispassionately, Francis brought Arthur to his own room and, with a quick move, threw the angel to the ground on his stomach, the demon on top of him. From his pocket, the demon drew some previously spelled bindings and tied them around Arthur's primaries, the angel screeching as he final freedom was bound away. Francis nonchalantly rose and moved to stand by the door, looking down on the angel who scrambled up the moment the king was off. 

“You will get your meals, and any bathing you want will 'ave to be a tub in 'ere. Until you apologize, I suggest you learn to enjoy your time in solitude. It might be awhile.”

While his face was a cold, angry glare, Arthur’s heart sank knowing that he couldn’t leave and that his  _ wings were bound. _ He turned his back on Francis, stubbornly waiting for the demon to leave.

Francis frowned down at the angel and left. He had work to do and didn’t need to wait for the stupidly stubborn creature to do a  _ thing _ . He was  _ plenty _ patient.

As soon as the demon left, Arthur sank into a chair, disheartened, and held his face in his hands. The glare melted away, it’s replaced with a slight scowl-- frustrated with  _ himself. _

 

_ Now _ how was he going to get out of this place? 


	9. Giving in doesn't mean giving up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff. Sentimental words. Bonding. Fun stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God.  
> I have been pushing to get this done for how long? Nope, not checking. Don't want to gag. Had some sudden inspiration today from some AFLF Season 3 I was editing for next month's uploads and pushed through 5 of the 8ish pages here, so go me, for a change. #Proud of myself.  
> Still trying really hard to get out chapters, but I'll admit that my motivation for this story is so damn low. Still trying to figure out plot so it doesn't suck. It's hard. The story lowkey kind of sucked in its first version, which most of this is, only edited.  
> I'm sorry everything's coming so slowly. I hope this story gets to the point I'm aiming (which is several story-years down the road), but I'll be honest when I say I don't know.  
> I'll still be plugging away on it, though! Please comment! It keeps me going!  
> (Plot suggestions are also very welcome.)

Over the next couple of weeks, Arthur remained in his room alone, receiving meals brought by Cermaka and baths every so often in his room, but nothing else. The first few days he refused to eat, but after nearly fainting, he gave up that course of action and ate normally. Nearing the end of the second week, Arthur had softened up but still refused to apologize. And Francis? He learned the value of patience long ago and waited. 

At the beginning of the third week, Cermaka came in to take the remains of the angel’s supper as Arthur say in an armchair, silent. She glanced over the stubborn creature and started to leave, the angel stopping her.

“Love? Would you do something for me?” he asked, his voice sounding . . . almost demure. 

She nodded, “What do you need, my lady?” 

He responded even more quietly, “ . . . Would you get Francis for me? I . . I need to speak with him.” 

_ ‘He finally gave in,’ _ she thought, nodding before disappearing. 

Arthur continued sitting in the chair, ashamed that he was giving up on this. He wrung his hands for around fifteen minutes before Francis arrived, a long and deep scratch running down one cheek. Thankfully, it was healing quickly, but the blank expression was still cause for Arthur to be afraid. 

The angel rose from his chair and delicately padded over to stand in front of the demon, his head lowered submissively. “Francis, I would like to apologize for my behavior before. It was entirely harsh and disrespectful, and I hope you can come to forgive me for my actions . . . “ 

With the same blank eyes, Francis slowly nodded. “Oui.” The angel looked up hesitantly, the demon sighing. He pulled Arthur into his arms, resting his chin on the angel’s head. “I am so tired, mon cher.” 

The demon wrapped his wings around the angel kindly and Arthur felt a small pang of pity for him. It must be horrible to be a king of Hell, right? He wrapped his arms around the demon in a moment of kindness, murmuring to him, “Do you want to rest?”

The demon picked him up in answer, hitching Arthur’s legs around his waist, and padded down the hall to his own chambers. He opened the door and took them to the bed, plopping down and curling around the angel. He sighed wearily, Arthur gently shifting in his grasp. 

Not sure what to do, Arthur forced himself to relax and lie in the demon’s arms quietly. Eventually, Francis calmly drifted off and Arthur was close to follow. 

 

The next morning, before the king woke up, Arthur slipped out of bed and left a little note, saying where he’d gone, before returning to his room. On and off for the next couple of weeks, Arthur would find himself joining the king in his chambers. Nothing would happen, of course, but it still happened, and with it, Arthur began to realize that every night he stayed with Francis, his nightmares would fade and flare up again the moment he started sleeping on his own. A selfish creature, he took advantage and slept in the same bed as the demon with no arguments, but showed him little affection.

One such morning, Francis woke before the angel to find said creature cuddled up against his chest. He smiled, petting a hand through the other’s hair, the other settling on Arthur’s lower back. The angel shifted at the hand and curled farther into the demon’s chest, simply causing him to start quietly purring as he continued to stroke through Arthur’s hair and, occasionally, his wings. Feeling a hand through his wings, Arthur blinked awake, looking up tiredly at the demon. 

Francis smiled. “Sleep well, mon petit?”

Arthur was glad he could reply in honesty, “Yes, I slept rather well, actually. You?” 

“Oui, thank you.” He pet through the other’s hair gently, not making a move to get up. “I am quite glad you have been joining me, you know.” 

Arthur nodded, quietly curling back up in Francis’s chest. “Me too.” 

Glad the angel can relax around him, he pet through the other’s hair with a gentle, non-judgemental hum. “I am sorry if this is intrusive, but ‘ow are you doing with your nest?” He added quickly to it, “Out of curiosity.” 

A bit defensive since it’s  _ his nest, _ he tensed a small bit, but answered anyway, albeit hesitantly, “Well enough.” 

“Just let Cermaka or moi know if you need anything, and we’ll get it to you to the best of our abilities.” 

_ ‘That’s . . . helpful.’ _

“Thank you, I do appreciate that.” 

Francis smiled, holding onto the angel. “Do you want anything to eat?” 

Arthur nodded in turn. “Some breakfast and tea would be nice. . .” 

The demon silently nodded, quickly rubbing a bangle. Within seven minutes, the food arrived with a servant that placed it on the table, then quickly and quietly left. With the servant  --   _ probably a judgemental one  --   _ gone, he gently pulled away from Francis to sit up, running a hand through his perpetually messy, blond hair. Perhaps getting it cut would help . . . 

“You are so lovely, mon cher.” Francis smiled, going to his chair to eat, leaving Arthur somewhat confused. ‘ _ Lovely? Is he serious?’  _ Still confused, he slid off the bed and padded over to sit in his own chair, quietly pouring himself a cup of tea. As he took a sip, a little sigh left him and he finally smiled, letting himself relax.

Their meal was rather uneventful, the two eating in peace, but as Francis finished his food, Arthur sitting and relaxing with just his tea, he spoke with a cautious tone. “Arthur, I must ask you to be careful these next few days. Keep walking places to a minimum, if you can. S’il vous plait.” 

_ ‘He doesn’t usually ask so politely. . . or as worriedly.’ _

“May I ask why? Is there something going on I should know about?” he asked, nursing his tea.

“There 'as been a small rise in challengers, many wanting a claim to my throne, and what comes with it.” Francis’ eyes flickered up at the angel. “Many just want you.”  

Unfortunately, Arthur isn’t surprised, a little unhappy that every demon he comes across seems to view him as property. It kind of pissed him off. “I'm sorry that I'm causing this. I know, technically, it's not my fault, but still.”

“It is fine. I find that you are worth it.”

Arthur grimaced as the other turned to pull on some light pieces of armor and a long coat. 

_ ‘Worth it. Fighting battles is worth keeping a ‘pretty, delicate angel.’ ’ _

Francis grabbed his rapier, sliding it onto his belt, and pulled his hair into a ponytail, careful as he flipped a hat onto his head. 

Ever the polite one, even as he bit down his anger and covered it with a calm, easygoing facade, he murmured, “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, mon cher. Au revoir, I'll see you tonight. Maybe earlier, if I 'ave a little incentive?” 

While the demon was only teasing, Arthur has to force himself not to gag, hiding his chuckle in his teacup before answering. “You wish. I’ll see you later, Francis.” 

Francis laughed, “It was worth a try, non?” He quickly ducked down, kissing Arthur’s cheek before escaping away. “Goodbye, mon petit ange.” 

Not really phased by the kiss, he watched the other go calmly, sighing once he’s completely gone. He sat and enjoyed the silence for a while before speaking to the empty room. 

“Cermaka?” 

She appeared instantly and quietly, nodding politely. “Yes milady?” 

He smiled up at the young lady, kind with her because she treats him well, like she was told to. “Would you please take me to the menagerie?” 

She nodded again, holding out a hand. “Right away, Lady Arthur.”

Arthur took the hand, the demoness leading him through the shadows like a portal, taking him right down to the menagerie. He dismissed her for a while and took to the air, enjoying flying. He had only been allowed to fly again quite recently, so his joy at the simple pleasure had not even begun to wane. After spending several hours there, he felt he should return to his room, letting Cermaka escort him back upstairs where he sat in favorite chair, writing little drabbles on a piece of paper, content in the silence. 

Before long, he ran out of paper and, not willing to ruin the perfectness of his written work by writing more in the margins, forced himself to get up and pad down the hall to Francis’ study. He lightly knocked on the door and opened it a bit, instantly wishing he hadn’t as he is hit with angry French from inside, Francis pacing about his study. His wings flicked agitatedly, growling low and deep as he tail lashed and he shook his head, golden horns glinting in the light.  

“LES SALOPES! Imbéciles! Peuvent-ils faire droit rien?! Je jure que je pouvais leur tordre le cou pour cela!” 

Arthur was about to leave when Francis turns suddenly, straightening up and clearing his throat when he recognizes the angel, him not being someone has to ream for their insolence. 

“Salut Arthur. What  _ can _ I do for you?” He’s still obviously fuming from the complete and utter idiocy he has to deal with, but the demon is trying to keep his temper in check.

Arthur quivered a bit, regretting not just using the margins, and attempted to steady himself. “I-I was just wondering if you had some blank paper, but I can come back if it's not a good time . . .”

Francis simply held up a hand and closed his eyes to take a deep breath, exhaling calmly. “Non, 'ere.” The demon went to his desk, pulling out some paper. “Do you need anything to write with?”

Arthur carefully comes further inside, answering warily, “A pen, please. . . . May I ask . . what has you so worked up?”

The demon huffs somewhat angrily, “Just the utter  _ imbéciles _ I 'ave to deal with. A building project in the city 'ad nearly been completed, and then a small party of demons 'ad to go and  _ destroy _ it.”

The angel quirked an eyebrow and leaned against the large table in the room. “For fun?”

“Non, just a little rebellion against me. The guards there were able to appre'end and take care of them,” he said, handing Arthur the paper and pen to which the angel nodded a thank you.

“That is rather unfortunate.” Curious, he added, “Do you know if any of the project is salvageable?”

“Thankfully the main structure is still intact, so that does make it easier.”

“Indeed. It's not as bad as it could have been.” Hoping to put the other at further ease, he offered a half-smile, glad the other’s keeping calm for him.

Francis nodded, humming curiously. “Out of curiosity, what did you want the paper for?” 

He’s a little surprised the demon asked, stuttering back a quiet answer, “I-I like sketching . . . a-and writing.” 

There is a bit of a silence where Arthur wondered if he was being judged before he was grabbed, being pulled down as Francis sat in his desk chair, the angel in his lap. “Vous êtes trop mignon.” He snuggled Arthur, wrapping both arms and wings around him, purrs emanating from the demon, “Mignon, mignon, mignon~.”  

Arthur blushes furiously, struggling a little in the other’s arms, flustered. “I-it's not like I'm any  _ good _ at it! I just use it to pass the time. . .”  

‘ _Oh, why did you say_ ** _that_** _of all things, Arthur? Idiot!’_

It didn’t matter; Francis ignored the flustered angel's words, content to snuggle, all the while murmuring, “Mien, le mien, le mien~.”

Several more sputtering moments later, Arthur generally gave up and snuggled the demon back a small bit, just leaning back into the warm embrace. Francis loosened his hold a few long minutes later, in case the angel wanted to slip away, but he stayed, quiet and content on Francis’ lap. He wasn’t sure at this moment if he was playing the demon or if he was actually comfortable, just murmuring to the demon. “Is it alright if I sit in here while you work? It gets a bit lonely in my room . . .”

Happy, Francis returned to his work, nodding gently. “Oui, you may sit 'ere.” After shifting, he pulled out one of his General's reports and began reading it.

Slightly smiling to himself for whatever reason, he slid out of the demon’s arms and walked over to a comfortable-looking chair, curling up in it and setting the small stack of paper on his lap to draw on. He's casually sketching hands and shapes, birds, and scenery, but eventually found himself sketching Francis without immediately realizing it.

Initially relaxed, Francis looked at one of his bangles as it warmed and his eyes widened, the demon rising with a start. “I'll be back in a moment.” But by the time he’s done speaking, he’s already out the door, leaving Arthur wide-eyed and alone.

“What was  _ that _ about, I wonder,” he muttered. Arthur returned to his drawing, completely relaxed in the absence of everyone else, and waited for the demon to return, which he does- half an hour later. Upon his entrance, he appears fine with the exception of a long scratch on the back of his hand that’s healing fast.

“Sorry about that, there was a small problem I 'ad to take care of.”

Arthur’s eyes widened a bit at the long scratch, asking immediately, “Are you alright?”

Francis went to his desk, returning to the report he had dropped earlier, “Oui, I just 'ad to 'elp my 'ead captain. She 'ad fallen into a bloodlust what with the fighting, and needed my assistance.”

Arthur hadn’t met the South West head captain yet. “Your head captain?”

“‘Er name is Monique. She is very strategic in 'er fighting, which does make 'er difficult to pin down, but it did not take me long.” 

_ Strategic and strong enough to be Francis’ head captain. She must be an interesting character. _

“ . . . Is she alright now- well, not in a bloodlust?”

“I was able to calm 'er down, oui.”

Arthur nodded, glad she and everyone else is alright. Curious, he prodded a little further, intrigued. “Roderich spoke briefly about bloodlust with demons, but what triggers something like that?”

Francis proceeded to explain, using as vivid of imagery as he can to help. “To trigger a demon's bloodlust, the demon is fighting and killing other demons, oui? That blood . . . the smell and taste of it . . .  _ a lot _ of it . . . is intoxicating. To feel your enemy be ripped under your hands, hear their screams and their flesh being torn. Then, the anger you feel at your enemy. All of these combined can drive a demon into a bloodlust. That, and if something of the demon is threatened.”

_ ‘Ah. So that is why he told me to be careful of the bloodlust. . .’ _

Arthur honestly wasn’t sure how to respond, just letting out an, “Ah.”  

The demon chuckled. “Exactly. 'Ah.'”

Awkwardly wanting to curl up after giving that answer, he simply nodded. “Indeed . . . T'anks.” 

Getting suddenly quiet, he returned to his sketching, inwardly cursing himself for letting his accent relax so much that he let  _ that _ happen. Despite his hopes, the slip-up didn’t slip past Francis, the demon’s eyebrows raising in surprise. 

“Now what was _ that _ , I wonder,” the demon sang.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow, feigning an innocent look. “What was what?” 

Gently amused and intrigued, the demon poked farther in. “'T'anks.' That was cute. Would you say it again, s'il vous plait?” 

Arthur blushed, shaking his head. “Oh, please, no. It’s horrible.” 

The demon deadpanned, “I think I ‘ave a slightly better idea of what it ‘orrible, mon petit. Now, please? Just  _ one _ more time.”

Francis leaned his face into a hand, leaning on the desk as he looked at Arthur expectantly. The angel met the expectant look and inwardly cringed as he did as he was asked, albeit quietly, “T’anks.” 

Francis smiled, “Merci beaucoup. I 'ope you will be more comfortable and open to using that part of your adorable accent in the future.”

_ ‘Adorable accent? He’s not being as charming as he’d like.’  _

In reality, Arthur thought it was a little cute that Francis liked it, pulling his wings a small bit around him. His answer is quiet, almost so the other couldn’t hear him, “Maybe.” 

The two return to their work, Arthur very quietly humming from time to time in his chair, and, before long, a couple of hours pass, Francis getting up. 

“Come. I need to get up and walk, otherwise I will go  _ crazy. _ And I want to show you something.”

Arthur set his sketches to the side and rose as well, following Francis. “What do you want to show me?” 

_ ‘Must be important . . .’  _

The demon simply answered with a, “You’ll see,” before taking his hand as they walk through the halls. He continues speaking as the walk further through the castle, “Most people, when they meet me, believe that I want to make everything pristine and perfect. They think I only believe something is beautiful when it has no faults.” 

As they walked, Francis made sure to point out different pieces of art and architecture. Arthur noticed that nearly each and every piece has some kind of flaw. Whether it was a scratch, rip, or any other type of wear or tear, rarely is a piece ever pristine. The angel found all of this curious, but continued to follow along, curious.

“I prefer to see things beautiful as a whole, not only part of the picture. Sure, one may focus on the fine details, but you must never forget to take a step back to see the entirety of the big picture.” 

Arthur nodded, listening, but isn’t quite sure where it’s going. 

Francis opened the door to the menagerie and, in the evening light, the rays of the hellsun come shining through. It wasn’t noticeable before, but the glass of the menagerie wasn't as smooth as it seemed. Small chips and ripples in the glass bent the light, causing small rainbows to appear throughout, shining on the crystalline plants to reflect the colors. 

“Besides, sometimes the imperfections just make it that much more beautiful, non?”

Arthur gazed about, taking in the 'little imperfections' of beauty. “I . . . suppose.”

Francis absently extended a wing into one ray of colors, the gold of his wing reflecting it onto Arthur, though the hue is darker. Wherever light hit the golden part of his wings, the light reflected off, creating some very unique shades.

Arthur looked at the colors curiously, hesitantly asking  _ the _ question, “Why did you want to show me this?”

Francis’ answer is simple. “I wanted you to see it. I wanted to introduce another part of me. And,” he pauses, looking at Arthur, “I wanted you to see yourself as I do.”

His face blanked in surprise, finally understanding. Arthur stuttered a small bit as he tried to form a coherent sentence before giving up. Instead, he simply gave the hand holding his a gentle squeeze, looking back at Francis.

Francis gently pulled angel closer towards himself, looking into the other’s eyes with a gentle kindness that, despite his slit, demonic eyes, always seemed to be there. “Do you understand?”

While somewhat uncomfortable at the intimacy and closeness, he gives a small smile, nodding to the demon. Francis returned it with a small smile of his own, happy. 

“Bon.”

Francis pecked the corner of Arthur’s mouth, but didn’t push for anything. Grateful for that, the angel gave the hand another gentle squeeze and murmured quietly, “T’ank you, Francis.” 

The demon’s grin grew at the cute accent and they stood there for a long time, just watching the hellsun set as the rainbows vanished. When it finally got dark, Francis escorted Arthur to his room before returning to his own. For a change in both of their worlds, they both fell asleep easily that night, smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! Questions, suggestions, and encouragement are all very welcome!


	10. Beware the Keymaster’s Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crossing lines and making up for it . . . or trying to.
> 
> Also, more insight into Arthur's previous life~!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had most of this chapter written for a few weeks, admittedly, but my high school graduation has been sneaking up on me really fast and everything's been really overwhelming. I'm glad I could finally get this chapter up and I hope you all enjoy! <3

**** Some time passed after that moment in the menagerie and, to the angel’s  _ outward _ chagrin, the two started spending more time together. Arthur tended to keep more to himself and his books -- the few he could find -- and Francis would always drag him along through the castle on whatever outing the demon would fabricate. 

The angel was currently hiding from Francis and his ridiculous outings, just sitting and reading. Though he knew the tracer immediately gave away his location, he hoped the fact that he was reading in his nest in the dark  _ closet _ would give away that he didn’t want to be around anyone. Hearing creaking outside the door, Arthur could tell it must not have been obvious enough. 

“Go away, please. I’d like to read in  _ peace _ , Francis.” He didn’t mean to sound aggressive about it, he just didn’t want to go out. 

As was  _ quickly _ \-- uncomfortably, so -- becoming the norm, Francis peeked his head in, smiling charmingly. 

“Mon cher, come out~. You always keep yourself cooped up with your books. Aren’t you bored of the same ones? You’ve read  _ that _ one twice!” the demon exclaimed. 

Already getting a headache from him, Arthur could feel himself tense up and stare at Francis. “I don’t have any  _ other _ books,” he snapped back.

Francis  _ grinned _ . 

_ ‘Oh no . . . Here it comes.’ _

Then Francis  _ stepped into the  _ **_closet_ ** , the angel bunching up defensively in his nest with a deep growl projected from his chest. Smartly, the demon stepped back, allowing the other his space. The nest was  _ his _ and  _ no one else’s. _ With said space, Arthur grumbled, letting his feathers settle agitatedly. 

“Sorry,” the angel mumbled.

Francis waved it off. “Non, this is your space. I didn’t mean to violate it so thoughtlessly.” 

The angel silently brushed down his stray feathers, glad the other understood. Arthur’s nest is his space only for him and  _ possibly _ a mate, which he doesn’t have. 

At the silence, Francis could only just look at the uncomfortable creature apologetically, rethinking himself. He leaned on the doorframe, waiting for the angel to acknowledge him. It was a while of awkwardness, but when Arthur did and green met blue, they both softened up, just looking. The gentle sparkle in Arthur’s eyes enchanted the demon, and the way Francis’ dazzling eyes gave away his somewhat childish personality -- with an underlying depth that the angel didn’t understand -- made him curious to understand the other. 

Francis smiled at him, extending a hand. “Come with me on a walk? I wish to show you something.” 

_ ‘Again?’ _

Reluctantly, he nodded and rose, taking the hand to allow the demon to lead him away from his nest. Having long since been allowed his magic again, he sealed the closet shut against demons as he walked away, relaxed. 

The two walked for quite a while in silence before Arthur semi-snapped at the demon, giving him a  _ look, _ “Where are we  _ going?”  _

Francis just gently covered his eyes and led him along, murmuring softly into the angel’s ear, “You’ll see.” 

The angel shivered at the low murmur, deciding to trust Francis to not lead him astray. He carefully followed along, feeling the demon loom over him as he led the way from behind. Before long, Arthur felt a light breeze brush past and heard the creak of an old door, perhaps as the door was opened in front of them. Passing through, he was suddenly surrounded by the ancient scent of  _ ink _ . They were in a library. Probably rather small by how densely it seemed to be packed, but it was a library nonetheless. 

Francis planted a gentle kiss on the other’s temple and slowly lifted his hands away, revealing the absolutely  _ enormous _ collection of texts in this library. Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. The library was so much larger than he ever imagined, with two floors and numerous shelves with possibly  _ thousands _ of books. He wandered in farther, looking around the library and exploring, Francis trailing behind with a broad smile on his face at the angel’s happiness. 

“It . . . It’s  _ immense _ . How did you acquire so  _ many?”  _ Arthur asked astonishedly. 

Francis laughed, “I like my books on philosophy. And some are from my father’s library from the old capital. We kings took what we could to save them.” 

“Fascinating. . . The old capital had a library even  _ larger _ than  _ this?” _ Arthur turned, gaping at the demon. 

“Oui.  _ Much _ larger. I ‘ave quite the collection. Though I don’t ‘ave as many ancient texts from the old library as Antonio, I was still able to acquire a few.” 

_ ‘A  _ **_few_ ** _? This is a  _ **_few_ ** _?’ _

Arthur let a little smile cross his lips, going off to look for reading materials, the demon following dotingly as he told the angel more, “You'll find a little bit of everything ‘ere. Works from Earth, different ones on culture, a few volumes on angels.” He shrugged. “Really anything.”

Arthur hummed, going off to various sections, and pulled a couple books out, occasionally putting one back. Eventually, he started handing them to Francis, a stack growing in the king’s willing arms, and by the time he finished, Arthur had about ten or so good sized books and a sheepish grin on his face. 

“Maybe I should carry th-” Arthur began, reaching for the books.

Francis just held them away insistently. “Non, I am fine with carrying them, mon ange. I am currently at your service~.” 

The angel blushed slightly, turning to leave only to hesitate. Instead, he lead them off to a little corner where he could read in . . .  _ somewhat _ peace. Francis set the books on the table beside the corner lounge and took a seat beside Arthur, letting him read while the demon perused the pile of texts grabbed. Arthur, on the other hand, almost  _ fell _ into the book, immediately taken with the works that worked to fulfill his curiosity about this realm. He noticed, after a long while of obliviousness, that Francis was peering over to see what he was reading and looked up curiously.

“Have you read it?” Arthur tentatively asked.

“Oui. Mortis Noir is a favorite of mine. 'E brings up many good points on the philosophy of demonic and other-worldly powers, why what individual gets what power or powers due to location, experience, and genetics. He also covers many other things, but that is 'is main focus,” Francis answered interestedly. 

The angel nodded. “I see. I had been wondering since I arrived about all that. . . Your world is very different from mine.” 

Francis chuckled. “I can imagine ‘ow much different it must be. Full of light and all that.”

Arthur nodded, a bit somber. “Much more light . . .” He missed home. It was no crime to make that obvious. 

The demon took note of it, curling his tail sedately. “Tell me, Arthur, what did you do when you were in ‘eaven? A scholar?” 

He chuckled in response. “No, not a scholar. You know I am a Magicae angel, correct?” 

“Oui, I do.” 

Arthur shifted his wings, wondering why he’s telling the demon this. “I was an alchemist. I study the combination of chemistry and magic for practical applications.” 

“Oh? Sounds like interesting work.” Francis even  _ sounded _ interested, oddly enough. This doesn’t often interest people. 

He nodded. “It was to me. Unfortunately, many others didn’t quite agree. They thought magic shouldn’t mingle with other things outside of the  _ norm,” _ he huffs.

Francis quirked an eyebrow. “The norm? That is a rather  _ boring _ place to base yourself.” 

“I thought so as well.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been a while since I’ve used my magic in such a way.” 

“I don’t agree. If you enjoy learning and researching, you should continue your work, Arthur.” 

The angel brought his wings somewhat around him, uncomfortable about his research now. Most of his research had to do with defenses against demons for angels so that wouldn’t get kidnapped and sold into Hell like so many others had. So many, so close to him. Yet . . . he was also now in the company of a demon  _ king _ . He would never give away those secrets. 

“ . . . Perhaps,” he reluctantly answered.

Francis let his tail sway, his silent language screaming that he was intrigued. “Would you like me to set you up your own area to work in?” 

_ ‘What?’  _ Arthur blinked, speaking carefully, “Are you  _ sure _ you want to be offering that?” Internally, he froze up. What was he  _ doing?  _ This could get him out of here! 

“Oui, I am sure. I ‘ave a feeling you won’t get yourself into much trouble with your work ‘ere,” Francis replied coolly, an underlying tone that warned of many harsh punishments that could come if he use this opportunity against the demon.

_ ‘Of course.’  _ Arthur nodded, “I would appreciate a space to work in, yes.” 

Francis smiled amiably. “Wonderful, I’ll ‘ave that be set up as soon as possible for you.” 

The angel simply nodded quietly, trying to return to reading, “T’ank you.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost see Francis beaming at the ‘cute, little accent’ he had. Arthur sighed, relaxing in the lounge, immersing himself into the literature. Before long, Francis planted a kiss on the angel’s head and stood, bidding him farewell, leaving the angel content to be alone. He was used to it and enjoyed it. 

But he didn’t enjoy being lonely. 

 

Within two days, the lab was set up for Arthur with everything the angel would need in his work and he moved in happily, starting back up some research on metals paired with magic, more than they already are. His research was in pieces because, obviously, all of his actual research was in Heaven and he only had his memory to piece it all together. But start Arthur did, spending more and more time in his lab, that time being interrupted more and more often by Francis who seemed to be getting annoyingly clingy. The demon came in daily, asking what the other was doing and such, trying to be in as much contact with the angel as possible. Honestly, it was bordering on  _ maddening. _

Finally having some peace and quiet in his lab, he was content in working on some metal samples without Francis around. Yet, that time  _ surely _ didn’t last very long, as Francis came creeping in, trying not to disturb the angel too much. 

“Hello, Francis. Is your day going well?” Arthur greeted civilly, trying to at least be  _ decent _ to the demon that allowed him this. 

The other’s tail curled in a somewhat happy way, him padding in further. “Oui, it is. Merci~. And yours?” 

Silence. Arthur was carefully doing something to a sample, stepping back a few moments later at it sizzled and popped. “Not as bad as I once thought. Your metals are somewhat different in their chemical composition than in my realm. Stronger alloys than I was expecting.” 

Francis hummed. “You thought they would be weaker?” 

The angel struggled a moment for what to say before settling on some safe words, “I was expecting . . something.” 

“Something?” 

Arthur nodded. “Something.” 

The demon chuckled, nodding in acceptance. “I believe you did, indeed, get something.” 

“Yes, I did. It was different than expected, but I still got results.” 

“That is good,” Francis said, gazing at the other’s work.

Arthur simply nodded. “Yes.” 

Francis hummed in the absence of something to say, Arthur continuing to work silently. Some time of complete silence later, sans the sound of clinking instruments, Arthur felt a prod. Then another. And another . . . until he looked up at the demon, a single, imperious eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you, Francis?” the angel asked, currently peeved. 

“Oui, come on a walk with me. You’ve ‘ardly left this place since you first entered.” 

He sighed. Of  _ course _ . The damn demon was  _ lonely _ .

“Fine. I suppose I cannot say no to the  _ king, _ ” Arthur said, a small drop of anger and spite in his voice as he stood away from his work, putting things away to come back to later. 

The demon must have gotten used to it, because he smiled despite the tone, holding out an arm to Arthur, who took it and followed calmly, like the ‘obedient, little angel’ he was. Francis didn’t mind a bit, leading the angel away from his work and through the castle. Side by side and rather quiet, beyond basic inquisition into Arthur’s work -- many questions of which being dodged, wanting to keep his secrets -- the two walked peacefully. 

Well . . . semi-peacefully. Arthur wasn’t happy in the least about this. 

Francis, on the other hand, was happy the other hadn’t protested even more than he already had, just trotting along and leading his angel around. That is, until he stopped nearby the menagerie, peeking into a random room with a few demons and demonesses inside. And inside? He could scent  _ several _ wonderful creatures who reeked of  _ mate _ . (Now, this wasn’t the usual, of course, but there was a time of year that  _ everyone _ seemed to go into season, and they were  _ interested _ .) He lightly shuddered, loving the scent. 

Arthur, being an angel, couldn’t quite scent it. There was  _ something _ , but he hadn’t been around long enough to know what it was. He did, however, feel Francis shiver beside him, quirking an eyebrow, oblivious to why. 

_ ‘A draft, perhaps?’ _

The demon pulled himself away from the doorway, smiling down at the angel. He felt rather drawn to the creature that bore his mark, wonderfully revealed by the other’s flowing dress, the color of which set off his eyes  _ beautifully _ . Arthur was perfectly enchanting. 

“Some time in the menagerie, per’aps?” Francis asked pleasantly, ignoring every instinct he had to go hide away the angel. It wasn’t that bad yet. He was fine. 

Arthur nodded, the two slipping into the garden. Still, he hadn’t quite visited every corner of the enclosure, discovering something new every day about the terrain, animals, plants, et cetera inside. Next to the library, this was his favorite place in the castle. The only place that felt even  _ remotely _ close to his home. Unfurling his wings, he turned to Francis to check if it was alright, the demon waving him on as he unfurled his own. 

_ ‘He wants to fly with me again. Interesting.’  _

The angel took off without remorse, nearly leaving Francis behind, but not quite. The demon caught up easily enough to where they were, weaving around trees and such in the forest as they did their aerial dance. 

Arthur was mostly pondering to himself, wondering about Francis’ odd behavior the last few days. He expected a possessive demon. Of course he did. He’s a  _ king. _ He’d be concerned if he wasn’t a bit. But Francis was following him  _ all week _ . Not blatantly, but in the shadows. Arthur wasn’t a person to be suspicious of others or to feel something was off, so he  _ knew _ he was being followed. It concerned him greatly at first, hoping not to be attacked, but when he realized it was Francis, he was just . . . creeped out. 

He was going to ask Francis about it, so he landed, turning to the demon curiously, but as said demon landed behind him, he scooped up Arthur. With a grin on his face, the demon spun gently with the angel, snuggling the creature.

Arthur huffed, struggling against Francis’ clingy hold with a slight scowl. “Good lord, Francis. What  _ is _ the matter with you?” 

Two blue eyes, charged with an unusual fire, stared back at him as the demon responded, “Arthur, you are beyond lovely, you know that?”

Arthur could feel his face heating up, him squirming a bit more. “Francis, put me down! 

Francis simply held him close, a lighthearted tone drowning his somewhat commanding words, “You didn’t answer my question, cher.” 

The angel looked away, angry. Of  _ course _ he knew. If he wasn’t deemed  _ lovely _ by Francis, he’d probably still be under Ryszard’s control. His quiet answer gave hint to his feelings. 

“Yes, Francis. I know. Please put me down.” 

Francis’ eyes lit up and widened in concern, sitting down with the angel in his arms. “Why are you upset about that, amour?” 

_ Oh!  _ He could have  _ shook _ Francis for that! 

He glared suddenly at the demon, growling at him. “Because that’s the only reason I’m  _ here. _ The reason I’m not home, where I  _ belong, _ is because I’m  _ ‘lovely’.  _ That’s it. And, yes, it still angers me, Francis. I will never not be angry about being  _ stuck _ in this dark, fiery pit of nothing, so you’ll have to forgive me,  _ your highness. _ ” 

The demon’s eyes sparked angrily, but he understood. He was still angry right back, however. 

“Per’aps I should return you to your-” He was cut off by the angel putting his hand over the demon’s mouth.

Arthur lowered himself submissively, realizing the stupidity of his actions. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over my, Francis. That was extremely uncalled for with your generosity as of late.” 

_ That _ surprised him. Francis certainly wasn’t expecting a headstrong creature like Arthur to submit and apologize so rapidly. He lifted a hand to press Arthur’s more firmly against his mouth, his lips kissing the delicate limb before pulling it away and replying gently to the apology. 

“Arthur, I forgive you, but try to watch your temper, alright? I don’t want you to lose it at the wrong moment with the wrong demon, only for you to get hurt.”

Arthur simply nodded, head down. His temper would be the death of him here. He felt Francis kiss his forehead and pull him in closer, simply tucking himself into the other’s arms, afraid of what rejection would mean for him. Francis wrapped his wings around the other, petting through the soft wings in his arms to try and get the other to relax. It wasn’t really helping, but it  _ was  _ helping Arthur bond a little bit more with the other, despite not wanting to. He snuggled in, just letting it happen. What else could he do?

As always, Francis was on the opposite side of the spectrum, somewhat confused with how . . .  _ protective _ he felt of Arthur currently. He’d only felt this protective with . . . well, it didn’t matter who. He just did. He wanted to take care of his moody little angel and wrap him close protectively. It felt natural. 

So they stayed like that, both relaxing after a while. When Arthur felt better, happier, calmer, he gently pushed off the demon with a small hand on the other’s large chest, looking up at him kindly. “I’m going to go fly, if that’s alright?”

The demon tentatively pushed a bit more, “ . . . Alone?”

Arthur nodded, head ducked a small bit submissively. “Please?”

He didn’t need the extra submission, but it definitely made Francis nod and pull his wings from being around the angel in agreement. “Oui, you may. Be careful?” 

“I will.” Arthur was about to get up, biting his lip in hesitation before leaning up to press a light kiss on the underside of the other’s jaw, stubble against his lips, and getting up rapidly, a light blush on his face as he flew away. The demon sat in shock and awe, happiness spreading across his features.  _ The angel was getting closer to him.  _ **_Willingly_ ** _.  _ He left, happy as could be, leaving Arthur as he had been asked.

 

Finding this as the easiest possible way of gaining trust, Arthur continued his shy advance on the demon, submissive and obedient to the other. With this, however, Francis’ . . .  _ weirdness  _ continued. Still he was followed, still the other seemed to want him as close as possible whenever possible, and  _ still  _ Arthur was creeped out. Perhaps it was just the fact that he was a possessive demon, Arthur tried to convince himself, but there was still something weird about it all. 

Answers came within that week, when the angel was in his lab, standing at his desk as he recorded the results of a recent experiment. He didn’t realize it, but Francis was creeping around in the shadows, sneaking up to emerge silently and pull the angel close against him from behind. 

Arthur suddenly stiffened. He could feel the other’s rippling muscles pressed against his back and smell the other’s warm bread-like scent accented with  _ rose _ , but that wasn’t what concerned him. The hard-on pressed against his backside was what concerned him. He calmly set down his things and tried to pull himself out of the other’s arms, only for Francis to hold him close. 

“Unhand me, Francis.” He didn’t dare look up and challenge the other, simply focused on getting out of the other’s arms.

Francis purred seductively into the angel’s ear, not seeing a single thing wrong in his haze, “Relax~. It’s just me, mon amour.”

Arthur took a deep, calming breath. “Francis, I would be very relaxed and happy with you if you would  _ let me go. _ ” 

The demon leaned down even farther, his lips brushing over Arthur’s neck possessively, “But I am not ‘arming you, chéri. Besides, you are mine, are you not?”

The angel shivered, silently starting to pray. He had a horrible feeling about where this is going. “ . . . Yes, Francis. I am.” 

Francis’ tail swayed, it curling and uncurling like a little cat, him possessively speaking with a sing-song quality to it, as if in a trance, “You are mine~. Mine, mine, mi-  _ Oh. _ ” The demon’s eyes widened in realization, the haze slipping. What  _ horrible _ timing. He instantly released his hold on the other, pulling his robes somewhat in front of the bulge in his pants to not scare Arthur any more than he had. “I apologize, mon petit, it seems that my rut 'as started.”

Arthur smoothly put space between them, nodding in a slightly panicked way. “As I can see. That’s what you demons call it, then? The ‘rut’?”

“Feeling the need to make bebes? Oui, as I’m sure you have your name for it. Your  _ season _ ,” he answered bluntly, a hint of the seductive voice still there.

Arthur blushed horribly, muttering, “U-um, yes, we do . . .”

_ ‘Don’t ask about it. Please don’t. I don’t WANT to explain it to you.’ _ He kept his thoughts to himself, looking up at Francis. The demon still hadn’t moved out of the way so he could  _ leave. _ Well, more like  _ escape _ .

“Well, for demons, our ‘rut’ is one week of intense sexual and possessive urges.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. He  _ really _ didn’t need to know. “. . . Oh. I-I see.” 

Francis nodded. “So that leaves you with a choice, mon petit. You can either lock yourself in your room or you can join me in  _ mine _ . It is up to you.”

Arthur leaned back slightly, his back pressing into the edge of a table as he mentally stalls.  _ Why _ would he  _ want _ to stay and have sex all week? He’s been here a couple of months and, frankly, he was still trying to figure a way out of Hell, though it was more relaxed and . . . done with less effort. He kept his eyes averted, mumbling incoherently. The demon’s tail swished slowly, him cocking his head to the side curiously so his horns shined dully in the light. 

Wanting to hide from the curious gaze, the angel brought his wings slightly more around himself, silently protecting himself from the now known fire -- the  _ lust _ \-- in Francis’ eyes. “I would like to be in my room, please.” 

Francis nodded, and held out a hand to Arthur. “Then, s’il vous plait, allow me to escort you back, since I’m sure others ‘ave started as well.” 

He glanced from the offered hand to Francis’ expression carefully before taking the limb, pulling himself to his feet. The demon wouldn’t release his hand, which was acceptable for the time being, as they walked, stubbornly protecting the angel from every passing demon and demoness whose eyes trailed first over the angel, then the king looming over him. Arthur wanted to hide away from the lustful expressions, never to appear again, but he was too wary of Francis to let go of his hand and run or duck into the  _ also _ lustful demon’s form. Instead, he remained as calm as possible, glad Francis brought him back as quickly as possible.

“‘Ere we are.” Francis grinned lewdly, “Are you  _ sure  _ you don’t want to join me~?”

Arthur nods quickly, retracting his hand as he slipped through his doorway. “Thank you, but I am sure. Enjoy your week, Francis.” 

“Oh,  _ oui _ , I  _ will _ . Au revoir~.” 

And with that, Francis was gone, off to find some demon to fuck, for sure. Arthur just shut and locked his door, as well as the windows he never opened in fear of the atmosphere. He sat down, huffing at the way the day had gone. It had started just fine and civil, and then in turned into a voluntary one-week confinement to his room and nothing  _ but _ , including his lab, which was just down the hall a bit. Not that Arthur would risk going outside his room at this point.  _ Never _ . Too many horny demons for him. 

Though, there was a small part of him that was, dare he say,  _ upset _ at the way the demon had flipped so quickly to objectifying him, even if it was just demonic testosterone. He was getting used to the respectful attitude of the other, but this  _ rut _ had to come along and ruin everything. It made him feel a bit like a whore. Respected since nothing happened, but still quite like a whore. And that’s alright. That’s just what he needed to take a mental step back and refocus. 

Damn that demon for getting in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment! They are my fuel~.


	11. Lingering shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur may or may not have trust issues. (Shrugs.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! It's been ages, but I FINALLY got this chapter finished!! I hope you guys are still around and still reading because I'm still writing this and posting it! I hope the epic length (almost double every other chapter- Wha~?) makes up a little for taking so dang long with it. ;)
> 
> Fun fact: Andy-Braginsky and I started rping/writing this on June 23, 2016, at 9:19:10 PM. A year later, and I'm only ten chapters in. (Bows head.) Forgive me. I DO love you guys, it's just hard writing alone. 
> 
> Remember when reading the first part of this chapter: parallel/alternate dimension is the same world and all; (Imagine like a transparent copy of a lineart over the lineart. They are the same, but parallel.) alternate/parallel universe is a similar world that has similar events that may or may not have worked out the same way as your own. For simplicity’s sake, I will be using the terms parallel dimension and alternate reality, if I use the latter at all.

That whole week that Francis was off having the time of his life, Arthur was curled up in his nest, reading and writing. It was where he felt safest, especially when demons would start sniffing around his door. None could get in, of course, but it was still concerning enough for him to want to hide away. He went through the tall stack of books he had just gotten in the first couple of days, so he was just writing at this point. Writing whatever came to his mind.

A few failed sonnets later, he started messing around with his magic, slipping into a parallel dimension to practice as to not ruin something in his  _ actual _ dimension. He let his magic flow freely, using his power to practice basics and more advanced magic that was specifically from his family. In his magic house, they practiced geometric energy magic. Members, given proper training, could rapidly draw geometric weapons, shields, and objects made purely of energy and hold them for long periods of time, as well as use them in battle situations. 

Then there was Arthur. 

His mother, Brittany, was the head of their house and the most skilled in this energy magic. Her second was her eldest son, and Arthur’s older brother, Alistair, who was equally as talented as he was an ass. When Arthur was young, just starting his training, Brittany was captured during the first angel hunts, leaving Arthur and his younger brothers in Alistair’s care. Which wasn’t the greatest for little Arthur. 

In the end, the angel never fully learned the potential of his magic, which is why he’s known as such an undependable magicae to his angelic peers. Here, there was nothing stopping him from training and trying on his own to release his abilities. Except, you know, the actual knowledge of  _ how _ . 

He spent most of the week doing this, training to the point of exhaustion each day. Returning from the parallel dimension about a week and a half from the start of his confinement, he collapsed into his nest, weakly curling up in the comforts of his now-familiar home. Not ten minutes into his rest did he hear a knock at the door, followed by Francis’ muffled voice. 

Tired, he ignored it, only to have Francis be more insistent, knocking louder. Francis knew he was in here, so he wouldn’t leave until he was answered. Arthur pulled himself up, walking with a wobble to the door, glad the knocking was less insistent and irritating now he was actually coming. Leaning against the wall, he unlocked and opened the door a crack, peeking at the blond demon outside. 

In return, Francis looked at him in concern. “Mon petit, are you alright?” 

Arthur waved him off grumpily, tired. “Yes, yes. I’m perfectly fine, if a bit exhausted. May I ask what brings you here?”

“The rut for those in the castle are now over, so you can finally leave your room again. Why are you ex’austed?” While Francis started as purely curious, the mischievous look that took over his lusty blue eyes pissed Arthur off. 

The angel snappily cut him off before he could even  _ start _ on the possibilities of why that could be. “I was practicing my magic all day. Is that all?” 

Francis nodded, trying to be the mediator. “Oui, relax. I was worried about you, cher.” 

“No need. May I sleep?” Quickly added, “Alone?”

“ . . . Oui, you may.” While hesitant, his tone was calm and gentle with the angel, not wanting to set him off any further. “Come to my study later, when you are feeling better?” 

Arthur nodded tiredly, leaning against the wall beside the door. “I will, Francis. Of course.”

The demon smiled gently, booping the other’s nose through the opening in the door. “Merci. Rest up, mon petit.” 

He nodded again before beginning to swoon, not even realizing it before he was tipping over and then suddenly in Francis’ strong arms. Then, he simply drifted off, letting the other take care of him.

 

When Arthur awoke, it was in his bed, the pillows and such arranged like a pseudo-nest. He blushed, silently admiring that Francis would bother to do this and avoid going into his nest, just because the angel asked him not to enter it. He curled back up in the very temporary nest, still as tired as before. He let himself sleep a while longer before getting up and straightening himself up, making sure he looked alright. 

The primping, of course, was for his own satisfaction, not because he was going to go see Francis, as requested. He just wanted to look decent, instead of ridiculous. 

He padded down the hall to Francis’ study, his feet light on the floor, and gently knocked on the door before opening it, peeking in at the demon. Francis smiled up at him, rising from his desk to come around it, just so the furniture wouldn’t be between them.

“Feeling better, mon cher?” the demon greeted.

Arthur nodded as he answered, “Yes, much better. I apologize for inconveniencing you earlier-” 

Francis shook his head and put up a hand. “There is no reason to apologize, Arthur. I’m just glad you are well. You worried me when you fainted like that.” 

To unintentionally emphasize his point, he gently herded the angel into a seat so he wouldn’t be standing and, instead, be resting. Arthur blushed slightly, a frown across his lips, at the unnecessary worry. “Really, there’s nothing to be worried about. I was just doing some taxing things with my magic.” 

Francis looked at him suspiciously, wondering quite  _ what _ Arthur was doing, asking just that as he scooted slightly closer.

Arthur moved away slightly in an unconscious act of self-protection, still wary of the demon. “Practicing, Francis. Nothing more,” he answered. He knew it seemed suspicious, but . . . he wasn’t as skilled as he wanted to be. Francis would have to forgive him for that. 

The demon hummed, partially at the answer and partially at the action. “I suppose you did use your magic much more in ‘eaven than you do ‘ere, for the most part.” 

Arthur nodded. “Yes, I’m glad you understand.” 

There was a short period of silence before Francis changed the subject, “‘Ow were you these last few days in solitude?” 

Arthur leaned back and replied in a flat tone of irritation, “Bored. It was inconvenient and wasteful to do barely anything for a week and a half.” 

“Did you do anything?” 

“I only read through all the books I had borrowed from your library and sat around writing or practicing.” 

Francis nodded. “I see. I  _ am  _ very sorry for the way I treated you at the beginning of my rut. It was extremely rude, mon petit, and I didn’t mean to scare you the way I did.” 

Arthur hummed in acceptance, not quite forgiving the other. It was a disgusting act and he holds grudges. Let Francis  _ earn _ that respect back. “Of course. May I be excused? I’d like to spend some time in the menagerie after this week of confinement.”

What could Francis say? “Yes, of course you may. Cermaka is back from her leave, so she’ll be following in your shadow again from now on.” 

“Thank you.” Arthur rose and gave a respectful nod before leaving, heading down to the menagerie. Cermaka did slip out of his shadow on the walk down, apologizing for her leave as Francis had, since hers had happened without any notice. Arthur accepted it with a light smile, knowing the young lady meant no harm. She was, by far, the most useful on here. 

She disappeared into his shadow upon entering the menagerie, letting him fly around and take care of what was becoming  _ his _ menagerie, entirely the life within its flawed, glass walls. Arthur mended what he could and spend time with the creatures around, enjoying just being . . . an angel. Not a toy or object of affection, just himself. It was purely calming. 

He spent the rest of the day there before returning to his room, bidding Cermaka a good night before retiring, himself. The bed was still made up like a nest, so he made it better and snuggled in, covering himself in his wings to sleep. 

 

_ Arthur opened his eyes, not to his room, but to a cage. It was dark, but he knew he was surrounded by demons. All around him, they reached into the cage and grabbed at his flesh and clothing, ripping the fabric off, bit by bit. Trembling, he lashed out defensively with his magic, the energy doing nothing to the black masses. Their eyes glowed red and make Arthur even more terrified. Closer and closer they loomed, until they all froze for several tense moments, the crowd parting for another.  _

_ From the newly made partition came a demon he recognized with horror:  _ _ Ryszard _ _. Arthur scrambled back against the edge of the cage farthest from the demon trader, not realizing what he’d done until darkness grabbed onto him and pulled, desperately trying to get a bite of the angel. Struggling, he prayed to get out of this horror, the darkness fading with Ryszard going last.  _

 

Arthur woke with a start, clinging to the pseudo-nest he never left as he whipped his gaze around the room. Shaking in terror, the room was lit by the light of his glowing primary-tips, him curling up into them for protection. He hadn’t had a nightmare in some time, always soothed by Francis’ warm embrace. He hated it. The way that demon’s warmth and affection calmed his mind and allowed him to sleep again. 

It made him hate all of this even more. 

Unable to sleep, he stayed curled up like that for the remaining hours of the night, getting up when the hellsun slowly rose into the morning sky. Arthur dressed for the day and stood at his window, looking out upon the city and the South West, with its dry grasslands that stretched forever. It looked . . . sad. And very hellish, but that made sense, of course. Overall, it was disappointing. 

A knock at the door pulled the angel from his thoughts, making him turn his head and pad over to answer it. Opening the door revealed Francis, as expected, who held out a rose to the creature, which wasn’t as expected. 

“Bonjour, mon amour. Join me for breakfast?” Francis smiled beautifully as Arthur took the rose, the thorns clipped off. The angel looked at him with the same, slight coldness he had for the other the last while. 

“Of course, Francis. Just give me a moment, please.” Arthur slipped back into his room to put the rose on the table before returning, taking Francis’ proffered arm to let him lead. 

As they padded down to Francis’ room, the demon looked over the angel in concern, eyebrows furrowing. “Did you not sleep well, Arthur?”

Arthur blinked, surprised.  _ ‘Was it that noticeable?’  _

“What makes you say that?” 

Francis placed his hand over the other’s lightly. “You’re cold et paler than usual. Is something wrong?”

He lightly pulled his hand away, shirking the demon off. “I’m fine, Francis, really. I just need some breakfast.” 

The demon didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway and let them into his room. Inside at the little table was their breakfast, all set and placed for them to eat. Francis detached from the other and pulled out the angel’s chair courteously before taking his own seat to eat. 

Arthur ate in silence, avoiding further inquisition by keeping to himself, while Francis did the same, only he was constantly thinking about  _ why _ Arthur was so quiet and withdrawn. Perhaps it was because of the rut? Or- 

“Arthur, did anyone come to your room this previous week?”

He looked up and nodded. “Several demons were drawn to my quarters, but none were able to come in. One got the door open, but I had other things keeping them out.” 

Francis’ eyes narrowed. “Do you know  _ who _ got the door open?”

Another nod. “The afternoon guard for this hall. He has since apologized, my king. There is no need to be defensive.” 

“I’m not defensive.”

Arthur gave the possessive demon a look, annoyed. “You are defensively saying that.” 

“My lady, I am  _ not _ being defensive.” 

“No, just-” Arthur took a breath, halting himself. “You are just being yourself, Francis. Calm down a little, alright? Nothing happened, or you would have heard about it.” 

Francis remained silent at that, wondering who he would have heard it from: Arthur or the bragging demons. Either way, it seemed more likely at this point that the other’s attitude was because of him, which was to be expected after what happened. Francis would just have to try harder. 

And that’s what he did: Tried harder. More and more insistently each day. 

Every morning, he presented a rose to Arthur and invited him to breakfast, spending the morning attempting to converse with the angel. This went on for a few weeks before Arthur  _ finally _ started responding to his efforts.

 

_ Knock-knock! _  “Arthur?” Francis smiled, waiting for his little angel to respond, only not to get a response. He tentatively knocked again, leaning close to the door. Arthur was awake and moving around, he knew that much, but why had he not answered the door?

Before he could get too worried, however, Arthur rushed the door open, looking messy and disheveled -- and rather cute -- in his robe, looking as though he’d just woken up. 

“My apologies, Francis. I overslept,” the angel said, pushing his unbrushed hair out of his eyes. 

_ ‘He’s far too cute . . . ‘ _

“It’s alright, mon cher. If you overslept, you must have needed it.” Francis smiled, lightly booping Arthur on the nose.

The angel simply wrinkled his nose and quirked a brow, “Indeed . . .”

As had become customary, Francis bowed the tiniest bit and presented a gorgeous red rose to the angel. 

“For you, my lady,” Francis purred. Arthur took the rose kindly, thanking him sweetly, but the demon couldn’t help noticing how pale the other was. Barely a bit of color in his cheeks and his green eyes were not as clear as usual. The only real color on him was the  _ rose _ that was handed to him. 

“ . . . ‘Ave you been feeling well, mon amour?” 

Arthur looked surprised. “Why, yes I have. I’ve never felt better.”   _ ‘If you don’t count the nightmares. Can he tell I’m lying?’ _

If he did notice, Francis didn’t let it show and simply nodded. “Good, I was a bit worried. Per’aps all you need is some breakfast and a break in your work.” 

The angel nodded, despite not wanting to avoid working today. Work made him happy. “Perhaps. May I dress for the day before joining you?” 

Francis smirked and waved a hand, “Nonsense, you look absolutely fine. Come before the food gets cold?” 

Arthur simply blushed and averted his gaze, pulling his robe more around himself. He felt objectified, and rightfully so. The demon must have seen this, for he leaned down and looked the angel in the eye, being completely sincere with him. “Arthur, is doesn’t matter what you wear, only that you join me. S’il vous plait?” 

He looked like a deer in the headlights, especially with Francis so close to his face, but -- after a moment -- he nodded carefully.

“As you wish.” Francis smiled at the words and leaned in to peck the other, only for said angel to  _ grab his nose. _ “No kiss this morning.” 

Francis chuckled, “As  _ you _ wish, mon amour.” 

The angel gave a small smile and released the other, reaching out to take the demon’s arm. Francis led Arthur to his room and seated the wonderful creature, pouring his tea and making it up just the way he’d learned Arthur liked it. The angel could only sit and watch in amusement at how hard Francis was trying. Perhaps he  _ should _ throw the demon a bon considering this matter. 

Not that he  _ trusted  _ the demon or anything. That would be ridiculous.

Arthur took the tea when it was ready, relaxing in his seat as the two enjoyed breakfast and their tea. Francis was getting rather good at making his tea. It was the perfect combination of flavors and strength, making him happy. The meal was rather quiet, to his surprise, but it was pleasant, especially since he was still barely awake. 

That nightmare last night had taken most of the night from Arthur, a repeat of the same with Ryszard appearing, only with more demons- ones he had seen before. It was an unpleasant experience that kept him up. 

When the two were done, Arthur gently set his cup down and rose from his chair, wrapping the robe more around him. “Excuse me as I retur-  _ Ahh!”  _  he yelped as the demon scooped him up, starting towards the angel’s quarters. He scolded, _ “Really, Francis.  _ Is this  _ necessary?”  _

“Oui. You look tired and in need of amour~.” The demon easily opened the door with his tail and padded in, setting Arthur on the bed. “Now, just sit and relax!” 

Arthur scowled and rolled his eyes, settling on his bed -- recently made by Cermaka, as it seemed -- as he watched Francis find his hair brush. He returned quickly with the item, seating himself behind Arthur to gently brush through the angel’s hair. 

“Ah, I see your ‘air seems to ‘ave taken more to living neatly,” Francis teased, brushing through the soft and fluffy hair. 

Arthur curled his wings around himself, going through his feathers absently. “Indeed. The product you had sent up here has really made a difference, t’ank you.” 

“You are  _ very _ welcome, mon coeur. I’m glad it’s working well for you.” 

_ ‘My heart.’ _ Arthur silently translated.

As Francis brushed through the other’s blond hair, he noticed how much longer it is compared to when he came. It was short and choppy, but now it was longer, yet still as messy as always. “Your ‘air ‘as grown out quite a bit, ‘asn’t it?”

Arthur nodded, “Indeed it has.” He could feel Francis playing with his hair as he sat there, so he looked up at the somewhat-looming demon. “Can my hair help you?” 

Francis looked back down on him and replied, “Non, but per’aps you could ‘elp  _ it. _ Would you like your hair trimmed?” 

The angel thought about it, wondering if he should. He’s never really had longer hair, but . . . it’s so  _ messy. _ “ . . . I want to let it grow out a small bit, but I feel like it’s too messy for it to look alright.” 

Francis smiled brightly. “I know just the thing! There’s a way I could cut your hair to make it  _ not _ messy. What do you think?” 

“ . . . It won’t look absolutely ridiculous?” 

“Mon chou, why would I make you look ridiculous?” 

“To satisfy your amusement, perhaps?” 

Francis firmly replied in an attempt to end all doubt, “Absolutely not. One’s appearance is part of their  _ identity. _ I would never selfishly ruin someone’s identity for my own amusement.” 

Arthur fell silent, looking away at the firm tone. “Yes, of course. My apologies for assuming.” 

“Non.” 

Arthur turned slightly to the demon -- not enough to see him, really -- just curious as Francis continued. 

“Non, don’t look away from me in fear. I did not mean to scare you.” 

The angel remained silent before tentatively leaning against Francis, murmuring gently, “I know you didn’t.”

Fully surprised by this trustful action, Francis tentatively reached up to pet through the other’s hair, holding him close. “You seemed to flinch away.” 

Arthur leaned into the hand, calmly replying, “I drew back out of uncertainty. I was being careful, Francis.”

The demon pressed a soft kiss into the other’s soft hair, nuzzling him gently. He remained silent, simply giving his angel affection without rejection, for a change. Arthur returned the affection minutely, careful yet relaxed with Francis. The demon had been trying so hard these past weeks to make him feel comfortable, so he might as well reward him a little bit.

“ . . . Thank you.” 

Francis stopped, looking down on the little angel. “Hmm? What for?” 

Arthur looked up at him gently and leaned up, pecking the underside of the other’s jaw. “For helping me find a home here. You’ve been very kind and patient, never pushing me into anything. I find it . . . relaxing.” 

Francis smiled, pulling his angel into his lap to simply hold. “I am very glad you have found this place suitable as a ‘ome.” 

Arthur hummed, leaning back into the embrace. For a fleeting moment, his mind screamed at him, demanding he push away the demon, but . . . he couldn’t bring himself to. Francis was kind to him and has never done anything like the other demons who’ve had him. Francis had barely touched him at  _ all _ in any way that could be considered intimate. This was the farthest they’d been, and he was perfectly alright with it. 

A smooth and tender voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Arthur? Would you like me to cut your ‘air?” 

The angel looked up and nodded. “Yes, please. Just cut it how you think I would like it.” 

Francis smiled at him, pecking his forehead. “But of course~.” 

The demon scooped him up, carrying him to a little chair by the vanity as he summoned Cermaka to bring the necessary items, thankful when she set it up for him. With a gentle hum, Francis set off to cutting the angel’s hair, Arthur settling with keeping his eyes closed, trusting the demon. After playing with the hair a while, the Frenchman eventually got the other’s hair  _ exactly _ the way they both wanted it, grinning happily. He cleaned the other up and fluffed Arthur’s hair a bit so it laid correctly before saying anything. 

“Arthur? I believe your hair is  _ perfect.” _

Tentatively, and really rather scared that he shouldn’t have trusted the demon, Arthur opened his eyes and peered at his reflection, surprised. Pleasantly so. His hair wasn’t as short as it had been, but it was shorter again. It was also softer looking instead of its usual jagged and choppy appearance. It had more of a swoop to it and it was absolutely beautiful. 

“Oh, Francis. . .” He looked up at the demon, eyes wide and happy, even though there was barely a  _ trace _ of a smile. “It’s wonderful, love. T’ank you.” 

Francis looked almost equally surprised, but not about the hair. About Arthur’s words.  _ Love.  _ Arthur had just called him something sweet and kind. He smiled, leaning down to murmur, “May I kiss you, mon cher?” 

Arthur blushed, shrinking the tiniest bit before nodding. “Only a little peck, please?” 

The demon nodded, leaning in to give the other a sweet peck on the lips, looking absolutely happy. “Merci, mon amour.” 

Arthur gave a small smile, feeling . . wonderful. Like he could trust Francis. He’d give the demon this second chance, simply because he felt like the other had earned it back. “You’re welcome, Francis.” 

Francis held out a hand to the angel and helped him stand. “Tell me, mon ange: What would you like to do today?” 

Arthur stood, joining him as he thought for a moment or two before answering hesitantly. “How do you feel about spending part of the day with me? Perhaps in the menagerie?” 

The demon answered with a smile, “That sounds absolutely wonderful. Shall we?” 

Arthur nodded, the two padding down to the menagerie in light conversation, mostly about the day and how nice it was, then about how beautiful the menagerie looked in the late morning light. 

During several hours in the menagerie, the two walked and flew and enjoyed each other’s company, talking kindly with each other like extremely close friends, yet trying to get to know each other at the same time. They only parted in the afternoon when Francis was called away to work, leaving Arthur in the menagerie, though he didn’t remain there. The angel traveled around the castle and lingered a bit in the library before returning to his room. 

Late, Arthur was surprised when Francis peeked in a bit, gently knocking. “I just wanted to bid you goodnight and apologize for not being ‘ere at supper.” 

Arthur slipped a bookmark between the open set of pages and pushed it to the side, giving Francis his attention. “It’s alright. Is all well, I hope?”

“Oui, all it well, despite it going so late.”

“Good.” Arthur kindly continued, speaking to Francis, “You should head to bed and get some sleep, Francis. You look like you need it.” 

Francis chuckled. “Take your own advice and go to sleep. It’s late.” 

The angel nodded, a small smile on his face. “As you wish, love. Sleep well, Francis.” 

“And you, mon petit. Goodnight.” Francis left after his farewell, slipping away to his own room. Arthur took the advice given, hesitantly putting away his book and turning out the light. 

He knew he should go to sleep and relax, but he knew every time he let himself sleep, he would wake in a cold sweat. Since that first surprise nightmare, they had grown in frequency to the point where it was nearly every night. Arthur was honestly afraid to go to sleep. He looked to the door, wondering if he should join Francis. Deciding against it, he snuggled into his bed, wings blanketing him, and drifted off to sleep. 

 

_ Arthur opened his eyes in his dreamscape, looking around the grassy area full of flowers. It was not the usual dark dream that he had, but it was bright and colorful, full of life and happiness. He waded through the deep grasses, gently brushing his hands over the flowers as he passed. The angel hummed, a gentle smile on his face as he walked before the ground fell away, his smile with it. He stumbled and rolled down the grassy hill, looking around frantically before relaxing.  _

_ He was suddenly in a garden, long rows of rose bushes before him. Walking down the corridor of roses, there was a large variety of roses from all realms he’d ever seen. At the end of the corridor was a large bush all by itself, but there were no roses on it. He circled it calmly, finding a single red rose on the bush. Carefully reaching in, he broke off the rose and turned it in his hands admiringly.  _

_ “Arthur, mon amour.”  _

_ The angel’s eyes widened, turning to the source of the voice. Francis was with him. He’d not seen the demon in any of his dreams up to now.  _

_ “Francis? What are you doing here?”  _

_ The demon smiled and walked to him, taking his hand to give him a gentle spin before kissing the back of it. “You trust me, oui?” _

_ Arthur carefully replied, uneasy in such an unusually calm world, “Why do you ask, love?” _

_ The other repeated, “Do you trust me?”   _

_ “ . . . Oui. I trust you, Francis. Why do you ask?”  _

_ The demon grinned menacingly, pulling him in closer. “I just wanted to see ‘ow  _ _ foolish _ _ you are.”  _

_ Arthur ripped out of the other’s grip and backed up quickly, dropping the rose, “Get AWAY from me!” _

_ The demon’s voice changed, more metallic and sinister-sounding, as he stalked after him, “Your trust will be  _ _ perfect _ _ to take advantage of. . .”  _

_ The demon was suddenly gone in a swirl of black smoke, leaving Arthur looking around in fright as he backed away from where he once was. There was nothing but silence in the darkened garden, the roses falling and dying around him. He shook, backing up until he bumps into something- or  _ _ someone _ _.  _

_ The demon no longer looked like Francis, face missing and dripping black ink-like blood as he leaned in, whispering as he grabbed tightly onto Arthur, “Be careful in the night when your door is unlocked, for he will come in and take the last thing you hold dear.” Its grip was like thorns, piercing his skin and drawing blood, as he pulled the angel close and pressed against his rear. _

 

Jolted awake, Arthur screamed in fear, fighting the nonexistent grip with all he had in him before stopping at the lack of resistance. His gaze flicked around the room as he shook and pulled his wings tightly around him. 

Next door, Francis was awoken by the piercing scream, running over to see if the little angel was alright. While alone, Arthur was shaking violently on the bed, his wings glowing sporadically. The demon padded in and gently put a hand on the other’s soft wings, only to get slapped away by them, Arthur scrambling back and pressing himself against the wall, eyes wide in fear. It was like he couldn’t see, he was so afraid. 

Francis gently spoke, lowering his wings neutrally to calm the angel a bit, “Arthur, it’s just me. You ‘ave nothing to fear, mon amour. I won’t ‘arm you. . .” 

Arthur continued to shake, slowly sitting against the wall and sliding to the floor, his wings shaking more than anything else as he stared fearfully at Francis. He remembered his dream well, afraid it was true. 

The demon sunk down, wings still splayed out as he crept towards the angel and gently held out a hand as he spoke softly, “I can keep you safe, mon ange.”

Still shaking and afraid, Arthur drew his knees to his chest and buried his face in them, his wings slumping in exhaustion. Francis took the opportunity to slide up to him and pull the angel into his arms, purring comfortingly as he wrapped around him protectively. Arthur buried his face in the other’s neck, holding tightly to him as the demon stood and carried him to bed, laying down to let them rest with each other. Without a word, the angel snuggled into him and blanketed them in his wings, holding the demon close.

They lied there some time before Arthur was fully calm, simply tracing the stitching in Francis’ shirt. The demon couldn’t help but watch, wondering if this was why Arthur looked tired.

“Arthur?” No answer, only a gaze aversion. “Arthur, mon petit.” Arthur tentatively looked up, meeting the other’s worried, blue eyes.

“ . . . Yes, Francis?” 

He was always kind and gentle speaking to the angel, not wanting to frighten him in this state. “Would you like to talk about it? Your nightmare?” 

“ . . . ” Arthur shook his head. 

“Would you like to be alone?” 

The angel simply clung harder to him in response, holding the demon close as he quietly pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone.” 

Francis pet through the other’s hair, murmuring soothingly, “I won’t leave you. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” 

Arthur relaxed at that and the petting, as well as the other’s warmth, and stayed awake as long as he could before drifting off in Francis’ arms. Once the angel was long gone, Francis let himself sleep too, nuzzling his little angel gently. 

 

As the light of the Hellsun came filtering through the curtains, Arthur blinked awake, looking up at Francis’ somewhat relaxed face. The demon was still very asleep. He lifted a hand to gently brush the other’s hair from his handsome face, trailing down the soft skin and contrasting stubbly chin. Francis did like his little beard, didn’t he? 

Arthur smiled and leaned up to peck his jaw before slipping out of their tangle of limbs, looking in the mirror at his messy hair. He wasn’t surprised to see it this way, but he was still curious to see if, after a brushing, it would be messy or not. So he picked up a brush and sat at the vanity primping, surprised when the hair really went back into the more neat hairstyle from before. The angel happily flicked his wings before rising to his wardrobe, searching for what seemed like forever until he found a long, lightweight black gown with large white flowers and a slit nearly up to his waist. 

After changing into it behind the screen, he came out to check on Francis, who was still fast asleep. He ordered breakfast for them both and sat on the edge of the bed, gently brushing through the demon’s hair.

Francis blinked awake slowly, looking up at Arthur with a smile. “Bonjour, mon petit. Feeling better?” 

Arthur nodded. “Much. Breakfast is coming up in a few minutes. Did you sleep well?” 

“Oui, quite, though you didn’t seem to . . .” 

The angel leaned down, pecking the demon’s forehead. “That was before you joined me.”

Francis hummed, somewhat unconvinced. He ignored the feeling that he should pursue the subject any longer, knowing Arthur would avoid answering him. Sitting up, he leaned over to kiss Arthur’s cheek. “Bien.”  

Just then, the servant walked in, bringing their breakfast. The king thanked the young demon, getting up with Arthur to eat breakfast. Unsurprisingly, there was a rose above the angel’s plate. Arthur glanced at it, an eyebrow quirked, before taking it up gently. 

“Having the servants bringing roses for me too, are we?” There was a slight tease to his words, very lighthearted.

Francis chuckled, staying in their lightheartedness. “Oui, but of course~.” 

Arthur smiled, the two sitting and eating their breakfast together. The demon couldn’t help but notice the trail of feathers leading up to Arthur’s closet. It wasn’t a  _ lot _ of feathers, but it was more than a couple. They were sweet, little feathers that were probably extremely soft. Arthur caught the other’s wandering gaze, getting a tiny idea out of the situation.

“Your nest ‘as everything you’d like in it, I ‘ope?” Francis said, pulling the angel out of his thoughts.

Surprisingly, Arthur wasn’t as defensive about his nest for a change. There’s still a defensive twinge, but it was small. “Yes, everything and more. Cermaka was great help in getting me a few things for it.” 

Francis smiled. “Bien, I’m glad she could be of ‘elp.”

“She’s honestly been the best handmaiden I could ever hope for. She’s been so helpful with everything and she never fails to be kind.” 

The demon’s tail swished through the air happily. “She really is wonderful. I’m glad you two get along well.” 

“As am I.” Arthur gently smiled before changing the subject, “How has your work been?”

“Frustrating at times and never-ending, but it’s been a bit smoother lately with a certain  _ angel  _ to brighten my day~.” Francis smiled to him, tail swishing flirtingly. 

Arthur blushed, averting his eyes. “I’m glad my presence has been . . . calming?” 

The demon simply laughed, leaning over to peck Arthur’s cheek. 

“Oui, very.” Just then, the demon’s golden bangle warmed, a message coming through about a possible rebellion. He smiled, forcing himself to look calm in front of the angel. The last thing he needed was to frighten Arthur with something like a rebellion in the city. Everything was going great, so this wasn’t good. “As it ‘appens, mon amour, that work is calling me early and they will not leave me alone.” 

Arthur knew something was up, but . . he didn’t know what. He forced down the feeling, believing it to be a mistake in his mind. Francis seemed just fine. “That is unfortunate. Perhaps we can spend time together later.” He smiled kindly, setting down his tea for a moment as Francis stood.

Francis smiled back. “Oui, that sounds wonderful. We can do whatever you like, mon petit. I look forward to it.” 

“Good. Now go where you need to, love. I’ll be around.” Returns to his tea, silently approving to the way Francis loved him up before leaving.

“I will. Be good~.” Francis slipped away, off to change and grab a few things, before speaking with Cermaka, telling her to be wary. He went quickly downstairs to deal with whatever was happening immediately after the brief meeting.

Meanwhile, Arthur simply spent the day around their hall, relaxed and oblivious to the events going on outside the castle. Hours passed and the angel simply sat reading books in his nest, comfortable, when he heard a loud noise. From his spot in the closet, he could hear doors bang, as well as a body passing by. Clangs that echoed through the hall filled the angel with curiosity, so he rose and peeked out the door, watching worriedly as he saw Francis head into the bath at a brisk pace. All down the hallway were pieces of blood-covered armor and clothing. 

Looking around for other demons first -- only seeing the two, small demon servants cleaning up the mess -- he padded down the hall and hesitantly pushed the door of the bath open, quiet. Inside, there was more armor and clothing strewn about, every one covered in some amount of blood. 

Tentatively, he stepped inside without a sound and closed the door, heading towards the now-naked Francis who has entered the bath and begun rapidly washing the blood off, the angel’s pace slow, even more tentative, and quiet. “ . . . Francis?”  

As Arthur broke the silence with his name, Francis’ eyes snapped to the angel. He could feel the curls of possessiveness in his soul as he looked at him, but forced himself to brush them aside as well as he could. His eyes did still trace the angel's small form, a tongue peeking out to lick his lips. A mistake. He still had blood on his lips. He shivered, fighting it. “Arthur, either 'elp me get this blood off or leave, s'il vous plait.”

Noticing the dark look in Francis’ eyes, Arthur took a bit of a step back, thinking quickly. On one hand, he knew that Francis could hurt him like this, but if he didn’t help, would he get hurt anyway? Pushing away all doubt, he grabbed a washcloth as he rushed over. He pulled off the dress as quickly as he could, despite the shyness nipping at the edges of his decision, before slipping into the bath and approaching Francis cautiously. Wetting the cloth, he set himself to gently scrubbing the blood off the demon’s face, struggling not to gag at the scent, though diluted by the water.

Drawn to the creature directly in front of him, Francis suddenly gripped the wrist of the hand that was scrubbing his face firmly. In his haze, he didn’t notice the angel’s breath quicken as he did so, closing his eyes to run his nose down the creature’s arm. His teeth lightly grazed the thin skin. Loving the feeling, his tongue lightly traced it, a pleased grumble left him. He could taste vanilla, and something almost  _ earthy _ .  _ Such a perfect flavor for such a perfect creature. _ He savored the taste, not getting enough. 

Freaking out, Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off the demon, his heart racing. He gently laid his free hand on the other’s face, speaking quietly as to not provoke him, “Francis . . . We need to get this blood off of you.”

Francis’ eyes opened slightly, looking at the angel through lidded eyes. He pulled the creature towards himself, wrapping the other arm around his waist. He ran his nose down Arthur’s neck, purring deeply.

Arthur simply trembled in the demon’s arms, not sure what to do. Perhaps this was just one, big, giant mistake. “F-Francis, love,” he stuttered in fear. “You're starting to scare me. Please, stop.”

Francis fanned his wings out in response, showing off the colors and size, and wrapped his wings around the two of them, showing off how well he can hide and protect the angel. He purred comfortingly, encouraging the other to not be afraid. 

But Arthur was still terrified, trembling incessantly. The demon's protectiveness was obvious, but his unresponsiveness was concerning. He leaned into Francis slightly, trying to get his attention. “My king, please listen to me. You need to let me help you, you are not well.” Deciding to put his final card on the table, he took a gamble and murmured to the demon, _ “S'il vous plaît, Francis.” _

Francis jolted the moment he heard his mother tongue fall from those perfect, pink lips, his purrs becoming even louder. He pulled away, smiling down at the angel, and turned around, bending so Arthur could reach his hair and back, still horribly stained with blood.

Relieved and thankful that he found a way through to the demon, he let out a slightly shaky breath before replying. “. . .  _ Merci _ .” 

With Francis calm and cooperating, he lifted the cloth and scrubbed the stains off the demon’s back until there was no more on him. Finished there, he gently leaned Francis back and supported him as he washed the blood from the other’s blond hair. Arthur pushed him back up and scrubbed off whatever remaining blood stains he could find, being especially cautious with the demon as he circled him, actively searching the crimson stains out.

Through all this, Francis comes back to himself more and more as the blood is cleansed from his system, completely calmed by the end of it, while Arthur is still rather frightened of the near-bloodlust demon.

His mind hazy, Francis blinked and looked at the submissive -- and,  _ mon diable _ , naked -- angel before him, confused. “Arthur . . .”

Still not completely sure if Francis is back to normal, he kept his voice and eyes down as he answered, “F-Francis?”

Gently, the demon reached up to brush a hand over the other’s hair. “Mon cher, are you alright?”

Relieved that Francis is back to a more solid mind-state, he let out a shaky breath he was holding in, looked concernedly up at the demon. “I’m fine, are you?”

Francis nodded, “Oui, much better now that that blood is off of me. Merci beaucoup, mon ange.” Looking over the angel’s somewhat terrified expression, he couldn’t help but add, “I 'ope I did not . . . 'urt you?”

Arthur simply brought his wings more around him defensively and backed up to sit on the ledge-like seat that ran the perimeter of the bath, running his hands over his face. “No, no. You didn’t hurt me.”

Despite seeing the obvious shakiness in the other, he nodded, relieved. At least he didn’t physically harm the creature. He carefully came over to sit a foot from Arthur on the ledge, resting a foot on his knee as he leaned back against the top edge, his arms along there. “Bien, bien.” 

Arthur doesn’t say a word, silently calming down as he leaned back and listened to the sound of the water in the bath with his eyes closed, his wings pulled around him to protect himself.

Concerned, the demon looked over in concern, murmuring quietly and hesitantly. “. . . What did I do? It is . . . 'azy.”

The angel’s wings shook slightly as he forced them down, speaking quietly to cover up the tremble in his voice. “”Y-you didn't hurt me, just frightened me is all.” He continued, very matter-of-factly, “You were acting extremely possessive, and I couldn't bring you out of it for awhile. And I think the only reason you did was because I asked you in,” he hesitates, going much quieter, “. . in French.”

Francis nodded, “Ah, that is the problem with instinct, is it not? Sometimes the only things that can get through are what it is considered familiar, safe, 'ome.”

Arthur nodded, “I'm just glad we're through that.” And quieter, “I'm glad you are alright.”

“I am glad that you were able to stop me from going into a full on bloodlust. Remercie, mon ange.”

Arthur looked up at Francis. “It's the least I could do, considering how kind you have been to me. Even when I was being an ungrateful brat, you still were kind to me until I pushed you too hard.”

Francis shrugged, “Be that as it may, not many would willingly 'elp a demon king with 'is bloodlust.”

Arthur blinked, not sure what to say. He wasn’t quite sure if, ‘it was the lesser of two evils,’ was the way to answer. Instead, he shifted a few inches closer to Francis and leaned his head against the demon’s shoulder, whispering, “I'll continue to help you whenever you need assistance.”

Somewhat surprised, yet not, Francis looped an arm around Arthur, holding him close. “And I will 'elp you, should you need it, mon petit chenille.”

“T'ank you, Francis.” He hummed for a few moments before realizing  _ just what Francis called him. _ He turned his head to flatly stare at the demon. “ _ Caterpillar _ .”

Completely unfazed, Francis nodded, “Oui, your 'air is fluffy and fuzzy like one. And I like them.”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow and turned his head to stare at the bath, shaking his head. “My hair is always so bloody messy, even despite the cut, and you think it looks  _ cute. _ I swear, I’ll never understand you, Francis.”

The demon laughed happily and Arthur rolled his eyes, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he gave Francis a nudge, “We should get dressed for the night. I don't know about you, but I'm so knackered I might just fall asleep here.” 

“Oui, that sounds good.” Francis swept the angel into his arms as he rose to get out of the bath, Arthur simply holding on with a sigh, a ghost of a smile on his face. He felt like a queen in Francis’ arms.

“You certainly weren't joking when you said you'd try to be helpful.”

Francis sniffed dramatically, “Of course I was not. You are too cute not to 'elp.”

Arthur quietly chuckled, “Whatever you say, love. Would you put me down though so I can get dressed?”

The demon sighed, ever in favor of a dramatic flare- “If I  _ must _ .” -and set the angel down, handing him a towel. He grabbed one for himself as well and began drying off, allowing Arthur his space.

“T’ank you.” Besides his thanks, Arthur dried off in silence, looking around at all the blood-covered articles surrounding them. He almost wanted to clean it up, just so he couldn’t have to smell the stench of blood in the bath any longer, but he didn’t, somewhat knowing his place at this point. When they were both dressed, he turned to Francis waiting to see if he was ready. 

Clothed completely, Francis offered a hand and a sweet smile. “Mademoiselle?”

Arthur couldn’t help but roll his eyes and take the hand offered as he responded, “Monsieur.”

Francis led the two of them out, speaking kindly to the angel, “I like it. 'Earing my beautiful language fall from your lips.” 

The angel slightly smiled, “Merci. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to speak it with someone.”

“You are doing quite well with the language for such a gap.” 

Arthur smiled a little more, letting his tongue caress the smooth words, “ _Eh bien, je suis content que je peux parler, si seulement pour vous._ ”

The demon blinked, registering the other’s words suddenly. ‘ _ Well, I'm glad I can speak it, if only for you.’ _

Francis looked at Arthur like he was the cutest thing ever, a light blush growing on his cheeks. He hugged the angel to himself after several moments of silence, smiling happily. “ _ Je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas. Vous êtes juste trop mignon et trop sucré et trop merveilleux et je ne vais jamais vous laisser aller, non, tu es à moi _ .”  

Arthur hugged Francis back, chuckling.  _ ‘He just could not? He’s the cute one.’ _

_ “Vous n'avez pas à, Francis.” _

Francis froze, his head on the angel's shoulder as a tear streaked down. _ He doesn't have to let him go. _ And yet, the demon couldn't help but remember those same words that were said to him once, so long ago. He hoped Arthur did not meet the same fate the other did. A resolve settled within him.  _ He won't meet the same fate she did. Over his dead body. And maybe not even then.  _ He subtly brushed away the tear behind the angel’s back, snuggling into him. He could feel Arthur try to stifle a yawn, snuggling even closer.

“Let's go to bed, Francis. It's been a long day.”

Francis pulled back and smiled down at him. _ “Bien sûr, ma chérie.” _

Arthur smiled back up at the demon. “I'm going to go change, but I'll be back shortly, alright?”

The demon gave him a quick peck on the cheek, letting him go. “Alright, see you in a few minutes.”

“Bien.” Arthur headed off to his room to change into his pajamas -- a comfortable and soft sleeping gown -- and check his appearance in the mirror before padding down the hall to Francis's room. He knocked twice before peeking in, looking over at Francis at a small desk wearing . . . glasses? 

“Come in.”

Arthur came in farther, closing the door behind himself, and padded over to Francis, glancing at the glasses the demon had just removed. “I didn’t know your wore glasses.”

“I don't. These are special glasses. They 'elp me read coded and invisible messages.”

Arthur nodded in understanding, “Ah. A good security measure.”

“Oui, I thought so myself.” Francis set down the letter and went over to the bed, sitting on his side. He patted the spot next to him as Arthur joined him, sliding in next to Francis with a faint smile. Quiet, Francis kissed the angel on the forehead and laid down as Arthur, too, curled up beside the demon and brought his wings around him, both falling asleep together. 

Yet, a mere couple hours later, Arthur was trembling and muttering quietly in his sleep. Waking at the mumbling and trembling, Francis purred in a comforting manner, curling around the angel protectively.  _ “Shh . . . . It's alright. You're fine, everything's okay.” _

Not waking up, he flinched away from Francis, breathing heavily and quietly whimpering as he pushed the demon away in his sleep, muttering quietly and desperately,  _ “S'il te plait . . . ne me blesse pas. Ne le laissez pas revenir.”  _

Francis winced at the words. Arthur was afraid of being hurt by him, probably in bloodlust. He had worried that something like this might happen, but he was determined to comfort his little angel. 

_ “Je ne le laisserai pas faire. Je promets. Je resterai.” _ Thinking quickly, he began to sing quietly to soothe his angel, “Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot . . .” 

Arthur slowly calmed through the lullaby, snuggling closer to Francis as the song came to an end, the demon wrapping his arms and wings around the angel. With the other calmed, he pecks the angel’s forehead and slowly returns to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some last notes: 
> 
> Arthur’s magic is something very similar to that seen in the 2016 Marvel film “Doctor Strange.” Given these two videos, Arthur’s skill level is close to that of Benedict / Dr. Strange’s ability and his mother is about that of the Ancient One / Lady in yellow.
> 
> Reference for Arthur’s mother: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnAye40cIDw  
> Reference for Arthur: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=au_dWaJum_Q
> 
> Also, the lullaby Francis was singing to Arthur is right here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYLTc3tGdzc
> 
> Translations for that last bit:  
> Je ne le laisserai pas faire. Je promets. Je resterai. = I won't let him. I promise. I'll stay.  
> S'il te plait . . . ne me blesse pas. Ne le laissez pas revenir. = Please ... don't hurt me. Don't let him come back.


	12. History revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly forgotten history and trust beyond trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes. This is kind of short compared to others, but eh. It was this or nothing, so I figured I'd leave a short chapter.  
> More to come! 
> 
> Also, not sure if this counts as lemon or lime. ;) Enjoy~.

****The next morning, Arthur blinked awake, still snuggled deeply into the Frenchman’s chest, feeling _awful._ Like that had been the worst sleep he’s had in a good while. He turned his head away from the dim light groggily, trying to figure out what happened. It couldn’t have been a nightmare. He didn’t have nightmares when he slept with Francis. . . . Right?

Under him, Francis loosened up his hold on the angel, feeling him stir as he himself had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while. Arthur hummed quietly, looking up at the demon’s barely-awake face for a moment before inwardly groaning as he set his head on the other’s chest, thinking.

“Nightmare.”

Arthur blinked at the sudden answer to his mental questions, peering up slightly at Francis. “Hmm?”

“That is why you feel so terrible this morning, mon amour,” Francis said calmly, almost soothingly. “You 'ad a nightmare last night.”

Arthur groaned, muttering quietly as he turned his face into Francis’ chest, “Again . . ?” _‘Francis usually took them away. . .’_

 _‘“Again”?’_ Francis’ eyebrows furrowed in concern. He knew Arthur had a couple of nightmares, but how often were they coming?

“Arthur, ‘ow many of these dreams ‘ave you been ‘aving?”

The angel looked back on nearly every night with a shiver, ducking more into the demon as he responded, “A lot . . . They haven't been this bad before, though.”

Francis hummed, thinking. “ _. ._. Per'aps talking about them would 'elp? If you want, of course.”

Arthur lightly shook his head, quietly replying, “No, thank you. I'd really rather not . . .”

_‘Please don’t push, Francis. Please.’_

“As you wish. Though,” the demon looked at Arthur kindly, “if it 'elps, you do not need to be worried about me. I will always protect you from that side of my nature.”

Arthur averted his gaze, suddenly remembering why he was uneasy in his sleep last night. He felt bad for not trusting Francis, subconsciously, but . . he scared the little angel yesterday. “I know you will, Francis. I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

Francis kissed the top of the angel’s head, sweetly reassuring him, “Don’t be. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I knew I’d scare you, even if I didn’t ‘urt you.”

“ . . . Don’t hide things from me.” Arthur looked up at the other firmly. “I wouldn’t willingly share a bed with you if I didn’t trust you. Remember to trust me too, even if I might be afraid.”

Francis blinked in surprise, giving a small smile as he responded, “Of course, mon petit. I promise to trust you as well.”

“Good.” Arthur leaned up, pecking the demon. He looks at him sweetly, gently stroking Francis’ stubbly chin.

The demon murmured to him softly, “What are you thinking about, mon coeur?”

Arthur was quiet and hesitant in replying, “The past few months. Everything leading up to now.”

“I ‘ope you are not lingering too much on the past. You ‘ave nothing to fear from those days.” Francis gently petted through the angel’s soft hair, looking down at him reassuringly.

“Even so, it doesn't change the fact that the past happened,” Arthur calmly replied. “It doesn't change the memories.”

“But it can change your perception of the future, mon petit,” Francis countered. “Remember, I can and will protect you as well as I can for as long as I can. I _promise._ ” The demon rose and started to get dressed for the day. He sweetly ruffled the angel’s hair. “Besides, if I got through it all, so can you.”

Confused, Arthur sleepily quirked his head at Francis, not moving much from the bed. “Pardon, what did you go through?”

“Being a slave,” he simply replied.

Arthur blinked, silent and surprised. “You were a slave? Wha- How?”

Francis chuckled, “It was a long time ago, amour. I was young, a child really, when I was snatched from my mother and sold. I suppose because of my wings. They are . . . unique, to say the least. At least down 'ere. White wings with metallic is . . . uncommon.”

“As I’ve noticed.” As Arthur lie there, he thought for a few moments before asking, “How did you get out of it?”

For a change, he wasn’t asking to learn how to escape himself.

“My mother tracked me down, found the demon who owned me and killed 'im.” Francis chuckled. “He was always wild, my mother. And _dramatic.”_

The angel blinked, somehow not surprised by Francis’ family. “He sounds like a bloody fierce demon.” Arthur smiled, murmuring mostly to himself, “Reminds me of my mum . . .”

Francis, having heard, smiled broadly, his tail swishing curiously, _“Oh~?”_

“Indeed.” Arthur lightly smiled, his gaze off elsewhere as he reminisced a small bit, “She was the fiercest angel I ever knew. She raised my brothers and I, and she _tried_ to do it alone, but that didn't last very long. . .”

Francis simply smiled, watching the happy look on Arthur’s face, his own slipping as the angel’s look melted away into something sadder. “She was the best mum I could have ever had. . .”

Francis looked at the other’s drifted and despondent eyes, murmuring, “Mothers always are.” Arthur simply nodded, silent.

The demon cleared his throat after a few moments and asked the main question on his mind, “May I ask what 'appened? If you don't mind, that is.”

Arthur smiled sadly up at Francis. “The same as I now. Many, _many_ years ago.”

 _‘His mother is in Hell too?’_ “I am sure she is fine,” Francis reassured. “She sounds like a strong woman.”

“She is, but I can only hope.” He ran a hand through his hair, uneasy thinking about it. “I honestly don't even know where she ended up.”

“I can look into it, if you want.”

Arthur looked up, eyes slightly widened at the generous offer, and nodded after a moment, “Yes, please. I need to know if she’s alright.”

“What is 'er name? That will 'elp in my search.”

 _‘I might need to send a message to Toni,’_ the demon thought musingly to himself.

“Brittany Kirkland.” Arthur smiled gratefully, happy that he could and would help. “Thank you, Francis.”

Francis nodded, smiling back. “Anything for you, mon petit.”

_‘That’s so sweet of him . . .’_

Arthur smiled for a few more moments before collapsing into the pillows with a groan, “‘M going to sleep a while longer, if that’s alright. . .”

The demon fondly answered, “That is perfectly fine. I need to take care of some things, but I'll be back by two.”

Arthur faintly smiled back, drifting off. “Alright. I'll see you later, love.”

Francis kissed the corner of the other’s mouth, whispering sweetly, “Au revoir~.”

The angel hummed in response, peeking an eye open to watch Francis go. Once the demon was gone, he got comfortable and went back to sleep.

After a good few hour's rest, the angel finally got up and wrote a quick note, leaving it on the bedside before leaving the king’s chambers. He moseyed down the hall to his room, slipping into his nest. He immediately sunk into the comfort of it, filled with so many blankets, pillows, feathers, and more it was like a soft feather bed, except _better_ because it was Arthur’s little nest. He relaxed and picked through his feathers, grooming himself and placing the feathers where they were deemed necessary. You could never have too many feathers.

Around two o’clock, Francis returned to his room to put some papers on his table, seeing the note on the bedside table. He knew Arthur was in his room, but he smiled because the angel left him a _note~!_ The demon padded over and picked up the note, reading and admiring the beautiful script Arthur wrote in.

Grinning at the invitation, Francis skipped over to Arthur's room and politely knocked before peeking in. “Salut, mon petit?”

Having expected the demon, he rose from his nest and swept it further into the closet. “Yes, I’m in here. Come in, Francis.”

The demon came in smiling, seeing Arthur just out of his nest, a small trail of feathers following out of the closet. He pointed to a feather out of the closet, “You missed one, I think.”

Arthur looked down at the feather and quickly picked it up, practically tossing it -- if feathers tossed well -- into the closet. “T’anks. I don't know why I missed that one.”

“Feathers, they are light and messy, non?” Francis shrugged.

“Separately, yes. But, collectively,” Arthur outstretched his wings a small bit, countering the demon with his gorgeous wings. “No.”

Francis’ eyes shone with admiration. “Non indeed.” He outstretched a hand, looking at Arthur for permission, “May I?”

Arthur smiled, stretching a wing out fully towards Francis and slightly encircling him. The demon ran his hand down the soft wing, murmuring, “Merci beaucoup.”

The angel simply hummed, watching Francis carefully, but with trust. Francis continued to pet over the feathers before combing through, beginning to groom the wing, his hands gently and like that of a _masseuse._ Arthur sighed at the gentle hands, relaxing. It’s been a long time since someone had helped groom his feathers.

Francis, wondering how much he could make the angel melt, continued to massage and groom the wing, causing Arthur’s eyes to slide closed. The angel hummed lowly, his wings subconsciously moving towards Francis as he murmured, “Could we sit down . . . ?”

The demon grinned, “But of course~.”

Arthur gently slid down to sit cross-legged on the floor, melting. “Merci. . .”

“De rien.” Francis sat behind him, kneading both wings.

The angel continued humming at the work done by those magical hands, slowly leaning forward, wings reaching to Francis. The demon’s eyes shine, happy and amused as he goes towards the base of the wings, wondering if they are just as sensitive for angels as the are for demons. Arthur shivered at the feeling, leaning more into the hands as he began to quietly purr.

Happy as well, Francis began humming as he picked through the feathers, continuing to massage and sift through, pulling out loose and broken feathers he continues to rub, steadily going up the wing away from the base. Arthur simply sighed in pleasure, purely enjoying this without any fear.

Francis leaned over after a while, gently murmuring the angel, “Do you want to lie down, mon amour?”

Arthur nodded and sunk down, laying on his stomach, his head resting on his crossed arms. The demon absently pet through the wings, straddling the angel’s back as he began to do the underside, Arthur shifting slightly as he remained purring.

The more the angel was massaged into full relaxation, the more the oil from his wing glands began to come out, causing the demon to sniff a small bit, curious. “ . . I smell . . . rain? And hot tea?”

Arthur flushed, tensing a bit. “Y-yeah. . .” _‘Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit-’_

“I take it that is your . . . oil, was it called?” Francis just sounded curious, which put Arthur a little more at ease as he nodded.

“Yes, that’s my scent. . .”

Francis hummed, nodding. Following his eyes and nose, he reached over to where he was oil and brushed it down the wing, spreading it across the feathers and causing Arthur to shiver somewhat tensely. He was _very_ close to Arthur’s wing gland, the most sensitive part of his wings. Francis, noticing, attempted to avoid the gland for quite some time, switching to the other wing to spread out oil there too. Far too curious, just as he’s nearly done, he gently cupped the gland, running a hand across it.

Not expecting it, Arthur gasped at the sensation, moaning lightly, the sudden pleasure getting to him as he goes instantly boneless.

Francis quirked an eyebrow and stroked it again, slower this time, causing the angel to shiver, him muffling himself with his arms. The demon swirled a finger around the little, protruding gland before grabbing it lightly, still applying a small _bit_ more pleasure than before.

Arthur clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the moan, quivering a bit as he recovers, removing his hand briefly, “Fr-Francis. . . ?”

The demon leaned over him, whispering somewhat huskily, “Do you want me to stop or keep going? Because, mon amour, I am sure I could get you to cum from just _this_.” Francis traced circles around the gland, prompting the other.

Arthur moaned needily, “K-keep going. . . _S-s'il vous plait, Francis.”_

“As you wish, mon petit.” With that, Francis began teasing the gland more, stroking and milking it for more oil, before adding in the other wing’s gland. He kneaded and stroked them for some time, even -- at one point -- _licking_ the gland, tasting the sweet and thick oil.

Arthur, through all this, trembled at the pleasure, arching his back into the demon as Francis continued stimulating his gland, moaning and whimpering the whole time, particularly when the demon _licked_ him. “Fra- _ahhh_ ,” he moaned. “Francis, I-I'm really _close,_ love.”

Francis growled slightly, more in a semi-aroused way than in anger, “Then _cum, mon petit ange_.”

He leaned down as Arthur shivered at his tone and licked the gland, his eyes sparking with an idea. He lightly traced it with his teeth before giving it a good suck, the other hand massaging the other gland. Arthur nearly screeched when Francis sucked on his gland, a trembling, moaning mess as he climaxed. Weary as he came down from his high, the angel rested his head on his arms, panting the demon's name quietly, his eyes still slightly euphoric and heavy lidded.

Francis smiled, happy to see Arthur so content. He circled around to kneel, running a hand through Arthur's hair as his other hand tilted the angel's chin up, kissing him deeply to let the angel taste his own oil. Arthur gently moaned into the kiss, his hands on the other’s legs. Putting his hands under Arthur's arms, Francis sat and pulled the angel into his lap, rubbing the other’s back calmingly.

Arthur sat happily in Francis’ lap, leaning against the demon’s chest, his mind clouded with pleasure. When the clouds clear a bit more, he turned to look at Francis, lifting a hand to pull the Frenchman’s face to his level and give him a deep kiss, blissed out. When he pulled back, his eyes are lidded. “Merci beaucoup, amour.”

“De rien, mon petit. I am glad you are satisfied.” He smirked the tiniest bit, causing Arthur to blush and smile, burying his head in the crook of the other’s neck, purring deeply. Francis wrapped his wings around the both of them, absently marking up the angel’s neck with hickies as they relax. Arthur hummed and leaned up a bit, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses along the demon’s collarbone and neck, periodically stopping to leave a particularly dark red mark on his pale skin.

Suddenly, while the two were marking each other up, Francis pulled away from the angel’s lovely neck to devour his mouth. He loves this. _This_ angel, in _his_ lap, smelling like _this,_ letting Arthur mark _him_ up as _he's_ being marked up and being able to surround the two of them with _his_ wings . . . he could stay here forever.

Arthur allowed the demon to devour his mouth unchallenged. While he was scared, he was enjoying this moment. He knew this was the beginning of many moments, but perhaps tomorrow he will be alone again, but perhaps not. Yet, for _once_ , the first time in _oh so long,_ he didn't think about that. No. He thought about the demon marking and devouring him, how _soft_ those lips are, and how _gently_ he was being surrounded and held. He was purely _happy_ , unchallenged by thoughts or memories of the past.

When Francis pulled away, wonder filled his eyes. “Such a beautiful being. Such a perfect, beautiful angel, and you're mine. _Merci_. Merci, Arthur.”

He smiled tenderly at Francis, lifting a hand to run it gently along the demon's jaw line and over the scarce facial hair running along it, marveling at the demon. “And you are more than I could have ever hoped for, Francis. I was so _scared_ of coming here. Scared of _you. . . . Mais je ne suis plus peur. Merci beaucoup.”_ [But I am no longer afraid. Thank you so much.]

Francis held the angel, his heart bursting with love. To love again, to _actually_ love again . . . it was more than he could ever hope for. He whispered fondly, “I am glad you are no longer afraid, mon petit. I am glad that I was able to 'elp you. And I'll continue to do so, if you need it, mon amoureux.”

Arthur wrapped his arms around the back of the demon’s neck, looking him the eye. “And I you. Simply ask and I'll be there, alright?”

The demon nodded minutely. “Oui, mon ange.”

Purring, Arthur laid his head against Francis’ chest, thinking about the other. Getting an idea randomly, he shifts so he straddled the demon’s lap, placing both hands on either side of Francis’ face with a smile. “May I show you something, mon amour?”

Francis, completely oblivious to what the other is referring to, blinked before nodding. “I trust you.”

Arthur lightly chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lowered his hands, leaning in beside Francis’ ear to whisper, “It's more _me_ trusting _you_ , love.” He pulled back, sliding off the demon's lap to stand, holding out his hands to Francis to help him up as well.

Francis took the hand and stood, waiting curiously to see what the angel had planned.

Arthur simply smiled and held onto the hand, pulling the demon gently along into the closet, swishing a couple of feathers into better places as he released the hand, climbing into the nest. He looked up at Francis and subtly made more room in the nest, despite there being plenty for two.

Francis’ eyes shined at the trust being extended to him. He stepped in and laid down, curling on his side to spoon the angel, holding him closely. Arthur just gently shifted, blanketing them both in a wing as he snuggled into the demon’s chest, purring deeply as he relaxed and lulled them both to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment~.


	13. IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A must-read note if you are highly invested in this story.

Hey, everybody! 

I honestly don't know if there's anyone left, who's still super interested in this story, but I felt it fair to finally tell you how I feel. 

(Deep breath.)  

 

.

. . 

. . . 

. . . .

 

I really don't like this story. 

Now wait! I have a reason. This was a side-story that  _I_ wanted to make into a _full-fledged_ side story and I knew I didn't have the time for that, but I did it anyway because I started with a co-author and thought it would work. After she decided not to continue with it, I thought, "Hey, I can totally do this on my own. Absolutely!"  . . . But I can't. I don't have the ideas, the time, nor the motivation to keep doing it the way it is. 

Now, I will still be writing chapters, but they will be inserts. Little crossovers with its sister-story As the Feathers Lightly Fall, since they cross many times, and also little pieces of interaction and story that  _I_ really want to write. 

**NOTE** : If you guys give me a specific prompt for FrUk in this universe, I will write it as a chapter. I love doing that kind of stuff because the idea is there, it just takes some extra structure on my part. Cool! I'd love to! But I can't give you the full, complete, fledged-out plot that I originally wanted to. I'm literally less than eight days from moving into my dorm and starting to work and go to college. I don't have time anymore, and I'm sorry for that. Please forgive me. 

But Wind-Tossed Feathers will go on! I have a few chapters in mind that I will give a small summary of what's happened up to that point and the moment itself for, just because I want to or I feel it's necessary, but if there's something _more_ you want, I encourage you to write filler chapters in between if you like. Let me know and I'd love to read it and give you a mention! 

I wish you all the best, and I promise that at least one or two more chapters will be coming. Because they're important to telling Arthur and Francis' story. 

I hope you all understand, and I thank you so much for sticking with it for this freaking long through all my bs. 12 chapters in 8 months? Yikes, my extreme apologies. 

Love you all and thank you for all the support thus far!!! 

\- Zelda

 

PS: Would you guys mind if I posted the raw script-form of some of these moments? They're already written and stuff, but I don't have the time to build them up into story-form. Let me know! 

PS #2: Let me know any prompts/moments you imagined or hoped for with Francis, Arthur, or any of the rest of the crew! I'd love to write them as a little chapter for you! 


	14. Mom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey-o~!  
> I'm so glad this chapter's finally done. The next chapter is the highly requested one about angel mating season~ but this one is just some more bonding and other stuff . . . Hope you enjoy!

**** A couple weeks since their  _ encounter, _ the two have had a few  _ more _ encounters since then and life had been peaceful between the two of them, growing closer and closer with each passing day. On this particular day, Francis was skipping down the hall with an excited, yet impatient, look on his face, returning to his study after receiving a small piece of paper from a messenger bird. The demon grinned at Arthur, who was sitting and reading a book in his chair. 

The angel looked up from the page with a smile at the excited look. “Hello, love. What has you so cheery?” 

Francis spoke rather quickly, but still clearly, as he explained why he was excited. “Two things. The first is that I ‘ave been contacting Antonio to find your maman, and we are getting close.  _ Very _ close. It is ‘ard because she was resold a couple of times, but we are narrowing down to who ‘ad ‘er last.” 

Arthur’s eyes brightened happily, smiling fondly and thankfully at the other. “Oh, thank you, Francis. So, what’s the second thing?” 

“Antonio sent me a little spell for you to try.” His eyes shine happily back, trying not to bounce in place.

The angel quirked an eyebrow warily. “What kind of spell . . . ?”

“Just a little transformation one, mon petit.”

Arthur, pretty compliant with the idea, gave a slight shrug and rose from his seat, padding towards Francis. “Do you have the spell with you?”

“Oui!” He excitedly held out the paper for Arthur to take, eyes shining.  _ 'I can't wait-I can't wait-I can't wait-I can't wait-I can't wait . . .'  _  Francis thought happily, a silent mantra in his mind.

The angel took the paper and read over it silently before quirking an eyebrow, speaking the incantation as Francis wiggled excitedly, bouncing on his heels. The demon’s hands were clasped tightly, wringing themselves again and again as he waited anxiously for the effect of the spell to happen. Arthur looked up, handed the paper to Francis, and stood there a moment before shrinking into the form of a small ginger and white Scottish fold cat, little wings fluttering on his back. 

He sat on the floor, absolutely adorable as he looked up at Francis, but also looking minutely like a feline that wanted to kill something- or  _ someone. _ Since Francis, along with a couple other kings, had been learning the language of  _ Silence _ , Arthur spoke to him silently from the floor.  _ “Happy?”  _

Francis quietly squealed, absolutely happy. “Tu es tellement mignon, tu es si mignonne, _ tu es si mignon! _ Je t'aime, Je t'aime,  _ Je t'aime!” _ Arthur blushed, his tail sweeping around himself shyly in his cat-form.  _ ‘Francis called me “so cute”?’ _

The demon continued, answering the question, “Et oui, you ‘ave made me  _ very _ ‘appy, mon petit.” 

Arthur’s cat-tail flicked,  _ “I'm glad you like it, love.” _

Francis smiled cutely, squatting down to be closer to his little angelic kitten. “May I pick you up, mon petit?”

Arthur got up and rubbed up against the demon.  _ “You may.” _

The Frenchman gently picked up the petit cat, smiling at him. “Merci. I actually learned of this spell when Roderich used it a while back at the mass ball.”

The cat wriggled a small bit in the other’s arms, trying to get comfortable. _ “Hmm. I didn't know he'd used it.” _

“One of the days 'e came trotting down the 'all in that form when all of the kings were gathered around. Everyone practically melted with 'is cuteness. We found out it 'as this nice little effect where you 'ave complete control over it for one day. You can appear as angelic or cat-like as you want.

_ ‘I wonder. . .’  _ Arthur casually shifted into a half-form, clinging lightly to Francis, ears twitching backward as he blushed, “Like this?”

Francis stared at Arthur for a second. Then another. And another, steadily becoming more and more pink in the face before lunging forward in a kiss. The angel returned the rather sudden kiss, blushing more as his arms wrapped behind the other’s neck. Clutching Arthur's bottom, Francis hitched the angel-cat up so the other could wrap his legs around the Frenchman's waist. Pulling back, he smiled brightly at the other, his eyes crinkling with happiness.

Arthur smiled meekly back. “I'll take that as a yes.”

The demon chuckled, “Oui, mon petit. That is a yes.” Francis gently set him down, humming as he saw the change in height, since Arthur was now down to about four-foot ten or eleven.

Arthur simply scowled at the new height difference, ears pinned back in frustration. “Why am I so damn short?” He looked up at Francis, trying to look angry, but he just looked even cuter as he whined. “Francis~! I'm  _ tiny _ .” He pouted.

Francis stood, trying not to smile at the absolute adorableness that was his angel. “That does seem to be one of the side effects of the spell. Roderich was also  _ much  _ shorter. Though 'e was a little taller, about 5 foot.”

His tail curls around his legs, pouting more. “I'm so _ short. . .” _

“I prefer pocket-sized, mon petit,” Francis answered, trying to make Arthur feel a bit better. Arthur just frowned, shrinking into a cat and stalking away, his tail held high.

Francis followed after his little kitten, making sure to open the door for Arthur when the little cat headed that way. 

Arthur simply flashed the demon a grumpy look that screamed,  _ 'I could have gotten it,'  _ and trotted down the hall silently. 

As they walked, him following his kitten out the door, a sneaky idea came to Francis. He smirked, pulling his sash so one end just barely grazed the floor, picking up the pace a little to walk by the kitten. 

The sash dangled temptingly, causing Arthur to glance over at Francis’ feet. His pupils dilated, attacking the sash with great aggression, swatting at the end and chasing it when it  _ jumped  _ out of his reach. Growling, he latched onto the end and pinned it down with his little claws, tail lashing from side to side. Arthur pulled on the sash, trying to yank the enemy from Francis’ grip to save him from the evil sash. 

Francis, fully amused, gave the sash a few small jerks in varying directions to get it out of Arthur's claws. Escaping, he quietly and slowly jogged down the hall, waving the sash behind him as Arthur sprinted down the hall quickly after him. The angel-cat pawed at the fabric, trying to catch it as he went. 

The two slipped into the library, Francis opening the door for them and dashing inside to a couch, dangling the sash over the cushions. Arthur sat at the side of the couch on his hind legs, pawing at the sash whenever it came within close enough distance. Seeing the sash flick, wriggling on top of the couch, Arthur hopped up and pounced on the cloth, a playful gleam in his eyes.

With another flick, the sash was beside Francis’ legs, the angel-cat scurrying after it and catching it in his claws, looking determined not to lose it this time. Francis pulled the sash a few more times, before letting Arthur take it away.

Proud, Arthur grabbed the sash and dragged it away, hopping off the couch. But . . . as he was trotting away with the cloth, he ended up getting it caught between his paws, tumbling to the ground. He laid there a moment, realising what he just did. And what  _ Francis  _ did to have him _ chase the damn sash. _ He huffed and let go of the cloth, lying there grumpily.

Francis, upon seeing the kitten fall, got up and gently scooped Arthur into his arms. He scratched behind the kitten’s ears and between his shoulders, him leaning into the hand and purring quietly. Smiling, the demon padded back over to the couch, sitting and settling the kitten on his lap. He continued to pet Arthur’s soft fur, quietly humming.

Arthur settled quietly in Francis's lap, happy with the amount of attention he was receiving in this form. He looked up at Francis happily and rubbed his head against the demon's leg with a quiet  _ merrow.  _ The demon’s lips quivered at the absolute  _ cuteness _ , eyes shining a little with unshed tears. Arthur was just. so. damn. cute. 

_ “Francis?”   _ Concerned, the angel-cat sat up on the other's lap, setting his paws against the Frenchman's chest as he looked up.

Francis sniffled. “I am sorry mon petit. It's just . . . you make me so  _ 'appy _ . I am so glad we met, mon cher.”

Arthur transformed into his midform, straddling the demon's lap, and set his hands gently against Francis’ cheeks, smiling. “I'm glad we met too, love.”

The demon hugged Arthur to his chest, purring. “ _ Je t'aime. _ ” 

Arthur snuggled in, replying sweetly, “I love you too.”

Francis tucked Arthur's head under his chin, barely holding back tears. “ _ Mon petit oiseau. _ ”

_ ‘My little bird.’ _ Hearing the other’s crackly voice, he held onto Francis and purred comfortingly, letting the demon know he was loved.

Out of Arthur’s vision, a single tear streaked down the demon’s face, internally saying goodbye to  _ her. _ He’d found a reason to move on, after all these long centuries. He loved Arthur wholeheartedly, and nothing could change that now.

Arthur looked up, surprised to see Francis’ cheek wet, him setting a hand against the other’s cheek to gently brush away the tear. He spoke softly, eyebrows furrowed, “Francis, love . . . there's no need to cry.”

Francis smiled, catching Arthur in a kiss. “Don't worry, mon petit. It's nothing.” 

The angel’s eyebrows furrowed, giving Francis a suspicious look. He thought it was just because of Arthur, but the way Francis avoided it made him feel like . . there was more. “. . . I don't believe you, love, but I understand if you don't want to talk about it.”

The demon sighed, speaking after a moment or so, “I suppose I  _ should _ tell you, mon chaton.”

Arthur’s heart leapt, not sure what was happening. “What is it?”

The Frenchman took a moment before speaking distantly, “About 2,100 years ago I fell in love with a beautiful demoness. I was a lord, and she a mere peasant when we first met.” The angel’s eyes widened slightly as Francis continued, the demon’s voice slowly becoming more sad and weary as he went. “We married and, for 100 years, we stayed together, she and I. Until . . one day, in an attempt to destroy me . . . they killed 'er. The people burned 'er before my very eyes because I would not bow to their whims.”

A moment of silence between them. Arthur slowly leaned up, hugging Francis close so his head was nestled into the angel’s shoulder. 

The angel quietly broke the silence, murmuring, “Oh, Francis . . . I am so sorry, love. Please, forgive me for asking.” He pet through the demon’s hair comfortingly. “You must have loved her very much.”

Francis hugged the angel back, kissing Arthur’s neck reassuringly. “It is alright,  _ mon cher. _ I was going to tell you about 'er soon anyways.”

Another moment of silence, Arthur just comforting his demon. He whispered to Francis, afraid to say it, “Have you been alone all this time?” 

The demon huffed a quiet laugh, trying to cover up the slight pain in his voice with a smile, “I would not say I ‘ave been  _ totally _ alone . . .”

Simply put, Arthur didn’t count the amount of bed partners one’s had in that equation. He held Francis close before sinking back into the other’s lap, leaning up to lightly kiss the demon. “ . . . Thank you.” 

Despite the silent meaning to that simple phrase, Francis understood and gave a small smile. “De rien.” 

Arthur smiled back fondly. “I love you, Francis.” 

Francis looked at the angel with the same fondness, leaning in to peck him sweetly. “Je t'aime aussi, Arthur.” 

The angel returned the kiss and set a hand against Francis’ face, looking into the other’s bright, blue eyes affectionately for several long moments before leaning into the demon and burying his face in the crook of the other’s neck, quietly purring.

Holding Arthur, the demon lightly wrapped his wings around the other, scratching behind his kitten-ears sweetly. The angel-cat cranked his head towards the hand and purred even louder before shifting back into being a full cat, curling up on Francis’ lap. Lulled by the petting and Francis’ warmth, Arthur drifted to sleep. 

 

_ He blinked awake, looking around the library. It was dark and Francis was no longer there. Arthur sat up on the couch, surprised to find himself not a cat in any regard. Had the spell wore off? The angel stood and padded about the library, the stone floor freezing under each step his bare feet took.  _

**_BAM._ **

_ Arthur whirled around, frightened by the loud sound. The library doors had slammed open, but no one was there. There wasn’t even a breeze. More frightened than before, Arthur trembled, particularly when a reverberating growl made the air around him shake.  _

_ “F-Francis? Francis, where are you?” Arthur called out, voice wavering.  _

_ Silence. Complete silence. There was absolutely nothing to be heard, not even Arthur’s footsteps as he crept towards the opened doors. Everything was cold, dark, silent, like the world had been muted and dimmed. Arthur knew something wasn’t right. The castle was never this dark. Every light was always lit to make everything bright and welcoming.  _

_ Arthur didn’t feel welcome at that moment.  _

_ He felt very,  _ **_very_ ** _ unwelcome.  _

_ The angel’s wings flared and brightened as glass shattered behind him, shattering the silence too as he whirled around.  _

_ A mistake.  _

_ Shadows wrapped around his arms, wings, and waist, pulling him out of the library. He screamed, but no sound came out. The shadows threw him into the center of a demon-surrounded circle, each of them holding something aflame, akin to a torch.  _

_ Arthur shook in terror as they all started towards him, the angel standing and beating his wings to escape, only to be dragged down and tied to a post.  _

_ Francis was there. Right there, several feet directly in front of him. He was calling out to Arthur, but he couldn’t be heard over the angry cries of the mob around them.  _

_ Without much warning, fire surrounded him, smoke choking the air out of the angel’s lungs, his vision darkening-  _

 

Arthur jolted awake, still in his cat-form, and raced away to hide, slipping under a couch on the second floor. His heart raced, eyes darting around him warily in panic.  _ What had happened? _

Having been worried about the angel as he slept, Francis was not completely surprised when Arthur awoke the way he did, scrambling away. The demon immediately followed, slowing as he approached the couch and knelt down, looking under to see the kitten’s wings stutteringly glowing from the farthest place under the furniture. 

Francis gently murmured, hoping to coax the angel out to him, “Arthur? It’s just me, mon amour. You’re safe.” 

Despite the kindness and gentle tone, Francis only frightened the angel more as he remembered his nightmare. His wife . . . Francis’ wife had been burnt at the stake to hurt him. To break his spirit. He couldn’t let that happen again. Not only did Arthur not want to die, but he didn’t want Francis to feel that way ever again. He didn’t want Francis to be alone.

He couldn’t let it happen again. 

Arthur bolted from under couch, narrowly dodging Francis as he dove off the balcony, transforming mid-fall to quickly fly right through the open doors of the library, determined to leave. Francis wasn’t going to get hurt because of him.  _ He couldn’t let that happen. He loved Francis too much. _

Unfortunately for him, Francis was hot on his tail, cornering Arthur before grabbing and pulling the angel into his arms, murmuring comfortingly, “You’re alright, mon amour . . . It’s just us, I promise.”

Arthur transformed to be as human as possible, still with minute feline features, and pushed against Francis, struggling to just  _ leave. _

“Stop! Let me go!  _ Please!”  _

Francis held on tight to the little angel, wrapping his wings protectively around him. “Easy, amour. S’il vous plait,  _ breathe.”  _

The angel just sobbed, pushing away the demon. He needed to leave. He couldn’t keep doing this.  _ Why was he still here in this dark place? _

Before he could think any more, the demon pulled Arthur up and kissed him sweetly, pulling the poor, distraught angel from his thoughts as he held him close. Pulling back, Francis gently cupped the other’s face, murmuring to him comfortingly, “Arthur, you are safe. No one is going to ‘urt you, I promise.”

Arthur shook his head frantically, eyes wide. “You can’t promise  _ anything, _ Francis!”

“Oui, I can.” The demon simply stared Arthur down, completely serious. “I promise that I will protect you above everything else.  _ You _ are my top priority. And I will keep that promise to my end-” 

_ “That’s what I’m afraid of!”   _ the angel snapped, eyes wide and desperate. 

Francis kindly continued, “Arthur, my end will be in many centuries. Perhaps a millennia or two from now. Not tomorrow. Not this year. Not this century. Trust moi.” 

Arthur’s expression wavered, still fearful though he takes great strength from the other’s strong words, before bowing into Francis’ embrace, silent. The demon brushed through the other’s hair calmingly before scooping him up, carrying him back to their room, the two curling up in bed together. Arthur did not speak again of what happened, and Francis left it be. 

 

A week or so passed and, in that time, Francis and Antonio both worked hard to get closer and closer to finding where Arthur’s mother ended up in Hell, searching every one of the far corners of their realm and beyond. 

Yet, during that same time, said angel grew increasingly anxious, hiding it as much as possible from his beloved demon. Francis still noticed more often than not, especially during the night when the angel either had trouble going to sleep or trembled in his nightmares when he finally was able to drift off. It had come to the point where Arthur began staying up late and waking up very early, sleeping as little as possible, which only put Francis more on edge about the other’s well-being. 

It was a quiet day when Francis entered his study with the weight of his findings of Arthur’s mother on his shoulders. Arthur was sitting peacefully in the room with a book in the corner of said study, looking up as the demon entered. 

Francis chuckled a small bit, looking to Arthur. “This is very ironic. Between Antonio and Roderich, as well as you and I, the universe is a smaller place than I thought.

The angel’s eyebrows furrowed. “How so?” 

“Did I ever tell you, mon petit, that Antonio's father, King Romulus himself, owned Roderich's father, Gerad? The same can be said for us, except  _ my  _ mother owned  _ your  _ mother, mon cher.”

Arthur’s eyes widened,  _ “Sorry?”   _ He continued hopefully, “Did . . did you finally find her?”

Francis paused a moment before answering, “Unfortunately . . when Romulus went into hiding, he allowed a few demons to go with him. One of those demons was my maman. So, while we know who Brittany is with,  _ no one _ knows where they are.” 

Dejected, Arthur looked away, knowing what that really meant for them as he slipped a bookmark into the text on his lap. “So,” he began quietly, “I will never see her again, most likely.”

The demon answered carefully, knowing this was hard for his little angel, “I do not know. Though Antonio 'as 'ad 'is spies out and looking for our Father for a while now. I think even Joao is in on it.”

_ ‘They’ve been looking for a while and have found nothing.’  _ The angel softly asked, “Do you think we will ever find anything?”

Francis could do nothing more than shrug as he answered. “I do not know, mon petit. Even I cannot see the future.”

“ . . . I understand.” 

Arthur set his book to the side and rose, padding quietly to the door. He passed by Francis without a sound, brushing his hand over the demon’s as he does. But before Arthur could get away, Francis quickly grabbed the hand, bringing it up to his lips to lay a kiss on the knuckles, speaking softly to him, “Arthur . . .” 

He couldn’t look at Francis, too disappointed and sad. He had hoped too much that he would soon see his mother again. He hadn’t thought that it would come to this. The angel lightly and silently gave the hand a squeeze, biting his lip. 

Francis hated seeing the other like this, all dejected and disappointed. He had been furious that he couldn’t bring Arthur’s mother to him, that he couldn’t bring him family and happiness like the little angel wanted. His mind went to the piece of parchment in his pocket, speaking kindly, hopeful, “If it ‘elps. . . I was able to get a picture of ‘er.”

Arthur shuddered, gripping the hand tightly before whirling around to wrap his arms around the demon, burying his face in the other’s chest. “T-t'ank you, Francis.”

The demon gently pet a hand through Arthur’s hair, murmuring soothingly, “There, there . . .” 

He quietly sniffled, mumbling as he held tight to the demon, “I miss her so much. . .” 

“I know, mon amour, I know. . .” Francis picked the angel up and settled on the couch with Arthur on his lap, quietly humming a lullaby to sooth his little love.

Slowly, Arthur calmed in the other’s arms, trying to keep as quiet as possible in his weak and vulnerable state. After some time, he slipped his hands into Francis’, quiet and tentative as he spoke, “She . . was one of the few people who believed in me. Who cared for the black sheep of the family. The rejected angel.”

Francis hummed, gently rubbing Arthur’s back. “I know the feeling.” 

“Do you . . . I would have thought just the opposite. You seem well-liked, besides the rebels.”

The demon chuckled, a small tint of humorlessness in his tone. “With these wings, my looks, and my general personality, many tend to avoid me. Or at least  _ fake  _ liking me. It was much worse when I was younger and first came into power. It 'as gotten better since then.”

Arthur peered over the demon’s shoulder at his wings, brushing a hand lightly over the white leather, murmuring softly, “They’re both cruel. Angels and demons . . .” 

“Oh, Arthur.” The demon gave him an amused look. “Both can be cruel, oui, but both can also be  _ kind _ . There is no darkness without light and no light without darkness. The one needs the other to exist to be present, because one can be mistaken for the other. That, and it also depends on one's perspective of the situation.”

The angel blushed horribly. “I know that! I never said they couldn’t be kind as well . . .”

Francis full-out laughed, booping the other on the nose. “You are just too cute, mon petit.” 

Arthur scowled. “Oh, could you  _ not  _ laugh at me, please?”

The demon’s voice was still full of mirth as he replied concedingly, “As you wish.”

Still hearing the hint of amusement in the other’s voice, Arthur frowned deeper, harshly wiping his face with his palms. The angel muttered, slightly cranky, “I imagine I look absolutely dreadful now. Ridiculous.”

Francis replied, kissing both of Arthur’s cheeks sweetly, “Non. Still cute.”

Arthur shyly returned the gesture, turning away with a light blush. “T’ank you, love. You . . you look rather nice, yourself.” 

The demon grinned before remembering the parchment again, slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out the small image. On it is an angel and a demon sitting at a banquet table, the angel laughing as the demon makes funny faces at her. Brittany and Dummacos. 

Arthur blinked at the image, not quite believing his eyes as he took it from Francis, a light smile gracing his lips. “She . . she looks so happy. And  _ just _ as I remember. . . You take after your mother, Francis.” 

Francis chuckled. “Oui, we are both quite sexy, non?” 

The angel laughed, leaning against his demon happily. “Indeed,” he said, looking up at the other, “but I need only you, love. And if your mother is anything like you, I can see why she’s so happy.” 

The demon smiled happily. Without any warning, he leaned over,  _ licking _ Arthur’s cheek. Arthur blinked in surprise, looking at the demon with incredulity. 

“Di- Did you seriously just  _ lick _ me?” 

Francis leaned in suggestively and laughed,  _ “Honhonhonhonhon~.” _

The laughing became contagious, Arthur laughing at the demon’s antics. “Bloody hell, Francis,” he said in amusement, wrapping his arms around Francis’ neck. “What am I going to do with you, love. . .” 

He grinned, responding, “Love me and dine with me at a lovely candlelit dinner surrounded by roses?”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “Roses and candlelit dinner? What’s the occasion?” 

“To celebrate finding out what ‘appened to your maman.” 

The answer was simple and sweet, making the angel’s heart melt a little as he smiled. “Alright. We’ll dine tonight as you wish.” 

Francis’ eyes shone happily. “Merci. I 'ave been wanting to do this with you for a while now.”

Arthur chuckled, “And you didn’t,  _ why?” _

The demon shrugged a tiny bit. “I wanted you to be comfortable around me first.” 

“I’ve been comfortable around you for some time, love . . .” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He trusted Francis with everything . . except his fears. 

“Ah, but I also meant . .  _ comfortable.” _

The angel blushed at the suggestion, leaning forward to give Francis a deep kiss, pulling back to look at him fondly. “T’ank you.” 

Francis kissed along Arthur’s neck, setting the other back on his feet before standing, leading the other out the door. After all, it is evening. With a light blush still on his cheeks- mostly from anticipation and anxiety, since he’s more than a bit nervous for what was to come  _ after _ the meal -Arthur followed his demon down the corridors of the palace, surprised to see them heading to the menagerie, of all places. He gave Francis a curious, but happy, look, keeping close to the other as he opened up the doors to the great, open space.

Inside, the hellsun had set, casting the red glow of Hell through the glass and allowing for a beautiful view of its gold and red stars that shine in the sky. Set up at the pavilion was a small table with an assortment of foods, surrounded by candles and rose vines that had grown up the pavilion itself.

Arthur, quietly awed by the beautiful and romantic gesture, squeezed Francis’ hand gently and smiled, following the demon up the steps of the pavilion. Even for a celebration dinner, the angel was a bit surprised at everything put into it. It all just seemed . . overdone, but all the more romantic for it, especially as Francis pulled out a chair for Arthur with his charming smile. 

As the angel took a seat, he thanked Francis before gently remarking, “It’s extremely flattering that you put together such a beautifully perfect dinner, love. It seems like so much for just the two of us. Perhaps too much.” He lightly chuckled, nervous in saying so. 

Francis chuckled, serving himself a bit of slightly bloody fish. “Mon chou, nothing is too much for your happiness.” 

Arthur blinked, fully surprised by that, though he knew he shouldn’t be. Francis had made that perfectly clear in the past, so why was it surprising? Perhaps it was because of how perfectly sincere the demon sounded saying it. All he could do was blush, averting his eyes as he served himself as well, speaking quietly, “Strange . . . You always make me feel like royalty, no matter where I am, as long as you’re there.” 

The demon looked up at the other’s bashful and sweet face, giving the fondest of looks. “Because you  _ are, _ mon amour.” 

Arthur looked up, meeting the other’s sweet and sincere blue eyes. He tried to speak, the only thing coming out being a jumble of nonsensical syllables so bad he had to stop, all flustered. Francis chuckled softly, reaching across the table to squeeze Arthur’s hand gently, reminding him that he doesn’t need to say anything at all. The angel gave a soft smile, squeezing the hand back in silence. 

They remained like that for several long moments before they parted, continuing to eat their meal in each other’s loving presence. From time to time, they look over the table at each other, Francis’ eyes shining when he caught Arthur’s gaze towards the end of the meal. The angel blushed, smiling happily when their eyes briefly met. Finished with his dinner, he slid a hand across the table to Francis. 

The demon extended his hand in return to meet and join with Arthur’s, pulling the angel up and into his arms, the two swaying to the symphony inside the menagerie. The chorus of frogs, singing languidly and perfectly, accompanied by an orchestra of crickets and water trickling downstream. Arthur danced with a smile on his face, content in Francis’ arms as they swayed in the dim light. 

It wasn’t long before Francis began to hum to the beat of their dance, a deep rumble that vibrated directly from his chest, his wings swaying loosely with them. The rumble was so deep, the angel could feel it in every movement the two made, and it was  _ wonderful. _

He smiled up at the demon, happy to have such a loving companion. Arthur gave the tiniest of amused huffs, not even noticeable as he realized silently. He wouldn’t mind calling Francis his mate. They might as well already be bound and married in such a way, for Arthur couldn’t imagine himself with anyone else. 

Arthur reached up, pulling the demon’s face to his, claiming his mouth in a kiss, only for the demon to deepen it accordingly and claim the other’s mouth right back, slowly dipping the angel. He hooked one hand around the back of Arthur’s neck and head to support him, calmly dominating the other’s lovely mouth as the angel melted, holding tightly to Francis.  

Since the two had danced their way onto the grass, Francis gently set the angel down onto his back, hovering over as they continued to kiss. Arthur easily and comfortably settled in the grass, their hands entwining into each other’s hair and roaming their bodies. The angel was in pure bliss, enjoying the loving moment and intimacy between them- until Francis’ hand snuck up his skirt, him tensing. 

Francis stopped, feeling the other tense up, and looked down at Arthur to make sure he was alright. “Amour? Are you alright with this? We do not need to continue.” 

Arthur blushed, embarrassed at the automatic reflex, reaching up to cup the other’s face and murmur, “Francis, I’m alright. I promise. I just . . need a little time.” He leaned up, kissing the other reassuringly, smiling. 

The little break was all he needed to relax, the two continuing slowly. But, even in their slow progression, everything seemed to go far too quickly until, all of a sudden, they were both nude and Francis was kneading at Arthur’s wing for oil. 

As oil seeped out onto his wings, Arthur started slightly trembling, both at the sensation and at how nervous he began to get. He knew he shouldn’t be nervous, especially with how much he trusted Francis, but here he was, scared of what was about to happen. 

Francis murmured to him, trying to help, “Say the word and I will stop.” 

The demon took his hand coated with the sweetly fragranced oil, slowly sliding it between Arthur’s ass cheeks to trace around his hole. Arthur simply gasped at the sensation, nodding shakily in acknowledgement before shifting his bottom a bit towards Francis’ fingers before suddenly stopping. He put his trembling hands on the demon’s chest, giving him a weak push away.  _ ‘I can’t do this.’  _

Francis immediately stopped at the hands on his chest, drawing his fingers away carefully before tenderly kissing Arthur. He met the other’s scared, green eyes and spoke softly to him, “You’re alright. We don’t need to, I promise. . .” 

Embarrassed, he averted his eyes and covered his face. He trusted Francis, so  _ why was this so difficult? _ They’d  _ done _ things similar to this before, so why did this not feel right? 

The demon simply brushed through the other’s hair, leaving soft, loving kisses over his face, looking at him worriedly. Had he done something wrong? He gently laid down onto his side, pulling Arthur close, and encased them in his wings. Arthur did the same, wrapping his large, fluffy wings around them, and buried his face in the other’s chest.

Still horribly worried, Francis spoke up and murmured to his angel soothingly, “Mon amour . . . What’s wrong, cher?” 

Arthur simply shook his head, whispering, “I’m sorry, I just- I’m not ready. I’m sorry, I’m-” 

“Non.” Arthur looked up into the Frenchman’s kind, blue eyes. “You do not need to be sorry. If you are not ready, you are not ready. I understand.”

The angel gave a wobbly smile and embraced Francis closer like a lifeline, loving him all the more for his wonderful kindness and understanding. He almost couldn’t believe it. It was almost too good to be true. But it was true, and Francis was kissing the top of his head and holding him closer. 

. . . Did he deserve this?

“Arthur.” The angel looked up one more at the other’s calm face. “For you, I would wait a thousand years, just so long as you are ‘ere, by my side.” 

Arthur’s eyes widened, looking blank from surprise. The demon smiled sweetly, the two having a quiet, tender moment before the angel lunged forward to take the other’s lips in a passionate and loving kiss. Francis reciprocated, pulling Arthur as close as he possibly could as he kissed up the little angel. 

In between kisses, Arthur smiled and murmured sweetly to his demon, “Francis . . I love you . . I love you so much . . .”

Francis chuckled and kissed back happily, holding the little angel sweetly in his arms. “I love you too, Arthur . . .” 

The demon embraced the angel tightly, the two completely hidden from outside view. Encased in each other’s wings, they curled up and slept just like that- right there in the grass, surrounded by candles and roses -throughout the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have a _tiny_ headcanon that Arthur lands somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, but he’s not _entirely_ against sex. It’s just . . he gets super nervous about it to the point where he’s not so sure whether or not they should _do the do._ But then again, if you guys know anything about As the Feathers Lightly Fall, you’d know that Arthur can be a very _sexual_ and heavily flirtatious person when he _wants_ to be. (Cough, trying to get all the numbers in the club. . . XD (Crossover chapter to come!)) 
> 
> Sooooooo . . . fear of real intimacy? Demisexual? Both? I’ll let you guys decide for yourself. ;)


	15. Important Author's Note

Not a chapter.

Sorry. :/ 

 

Hey guys! I know it's been the definition of  _ages_ since I've posted a chapter-  (whispers) or written anything for it, if I'm honest -so you probably just got really excited and then very disappointed. Sorry. 

So, some things have come up in some plot/character subjects. If you guys follow AFLF, you'll know that Seasons One is up and Two is being posted bit by bit right now and we are rewriting a . . big timeskip that never got touched upon. And it was right before this story.

In other words, this story is going to be fixed. 

A lot. 

Because I currently hate it and it needs rewriting, not to mention that the plot is no longer accurate. Especially the first couple of chapters. 

AKA: Hiatus. For . . ever. ? 

Correction, there will be one more author's note posted on here and it will be to direct you to the newly written Wind-Tossed Feathers once it's edited and rewritten. 

Then I'll keep going from where I left off. 

 

Just wanted to let you guys know what's up~. I've been thinking about you a lot and I've felt pretty bad about practically abandoning this story. It's made me feel pretty shitty, honestly. BUT. I'm working on it and fixing it. <3

 

Love you guys~! I'll be sure to post that new version and send you the link through the final Author's Note as soon as it's ready!

 

Au revoir, my pretties~. 

-Zelda.


	16. THE REWRITE IS REAL AND NOW LIVE

I'm back!!! 

I'm so sorry about how long it's been since I've said a word about Wind-Tossed Feathers. I really have been rewriting it, as I promised, and I'm finally here to deliver! 

 

[The NEW Wind-Tossed Feathers!!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782913)

 

 

This is the link to the new Wind-Tossed Feathers and I really hope you guys check it out. There have been some major changes for the better and I love it so much now. I know I said in several of my notes that I hated this story, but I love it now. Please check it out! I'm so proud to finally bring this to you all, nearlying two years from starting the endeavor that has been this story. 

Give it a chance. There is so much more to come. 

And now, goodbye to this story. It is old and outdated and I do not enjoy its presence, but I do enjoy the presence of all your comments and love. Thank you. 

Now we go on to the next version. ^-^

See you there! 

 

-Zelda 


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